Prelude
by mystical-blaise
Summary: Dean and family regroup to bring a distraught Abby back home, but will Abby be the same? April and Dylan struggle to understand their roles in the new world of the supernatural.:Sequel to "Mission":
1. I Disappear

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Abby confidently sauntered into the dark, seedy bar, already knowing she would find him there. Her eyes scanned the crowd of bikers and underage drinkers until her gaze met his.

_'Bingo.'_

He flashed her a devilish grin before waving her over. She confidently strode to him, receiving cat calls as she passed the patrons seated at the bar.

"Hey there," she said, sliding into the booth beside him.

"Always nice to see you, Abby," he smiled.

"Likewise," she purred, seductively biting her lower lip. "So, what's goin' on? Your message sounded urgent."

"Well, it's not _too_ urgent," he smirked. "We can take it slow."

"Oh really," she chuckled. "Now, I wonder, is this a call for business or pleasure?"

"A little of both," he smiled, taking her arm to pull her closer to his side.

Abby flirtatiously smirked up at him, trying desperately to hold back the revulsion she was actually feeling. The man next to her was a killer and needed to be stopped, no matter what the cost.

He didn't act the same as she did. Yes, she had to admit, she had broken her own vampire credo and gone back to human. However, her target was doing far worse; draining people of their blood for the pure enjoyment. To him, it was a kick. A rush. It was in actuality a filthy habit that needed to cease.

Thanks to a tip from Wes, she'd managed to follow the vamp for a week before she approached him as an associate with his same lifestyle. Abby made sure to appear curious about his endeavors with humans. After all, she wasn't innocent herself in that department. It only took a few short meetings to get him to spill the beans. He liked to kill for the pure delight of it. He relished in the power struggle, knowing that one would submit before the other at a deadly cost; he always had the straight flush.

He viewed Abby not only as a friend, but as a companion. The two had gotten close, _real close_. If Abby hadn't already sent the divorce papers to her husband, she would have felt like a tramp.

She couldn't think of _him_ at that moment. If should would, she'd feel that familiar heart-wrenching tug deep inside. The one that would usually send her into hysterics when she was alone. The one that made her feel completely empty. Useless. Abandoned. The feeling that made her want to run into the nearest shaft of light and end it all.

She couldn't and wouldn't, not when her kids were out there and needed her. After all, she may not be his wife, but she would always be their mother.

"Are you alright," he whispered, squeezing her to his side.

"Fine," she swiftly answered, trying to avoid any awkwardness. "So, honestly, Basil, what's going on?"

"Well," he said, lightly kissing her neck, causing shivers to run down her spine. Too bad they were only shudders of repulsion. "I found something interesting I thought you'd like to know," His kisses continued on her neck, his lips moving deliberately slow.

"Yes," she sighed.

"Well," he smiled against her neck. "I found out that you've been screwing with me, Abby."

Her body tensed as she felt the familiar twin pinpricks enter her neckline.

It hadn't quite worked out the way she planned it. Instead of conquering the beast, he had his teeth in her throat, draining her life.

It was ok with her, although she would miss so much. Her friends. Her family. God, her children. And then there was _him_. Yes, no matter what, she'd miss him and wish him well. Nothin' but happiness.

She instinctively struggled in his tight grasp and that only made the pain worse. His canines tore her hard flesh, the blood slightly spurting from her neck. Funny how no one else in the bar realized a woman was dying in the back corner. They were either too drunk or probably thought it was just a couple making out in a dark hideout.

Purple splotches appeared in front of her eyes and everything suddenly sounded as if it were underwater.

_'Soon,'_ she thought. _'Soon the pain would stop.'  
_

Her mind was starting to falter, the world becoming too chaotic to pay attention to.

As she faded away, the atmosphere in the room changed. There was something angry there. No, not angry; completely, fucking furious.

Its rage swept over her mind like a tidal wave down to her very core. It was primal, malevolent...and getting closer.

Her body slumped in the booth as the vampire continued to suck her dry, but she couldn't concentrate on that; oh no, not with the amount of tension racing forward.

No matter how hard she tried, her eyes closed. Abby's body was shutting down. The last thing she heard before she slipped in the darkness was a voice. A voice that she recognized. A voice that was filled with deadly determination.

"Get your hands off my wife, you sonofabitch."

* * *

The asshole threw him a confident smirk as he deliberately dropped Abby onto the booth with a thud. Dean was pissed before, but now he was fucking fuming. He watched in horror as the blood seeped out from the wounds in her neck.

"I said get your motherfucking hands off my _wife_," Dean ordered.

"Oh, and leave this beautiful creature," the vampire seethed, caressing Abby's lifeless face. "I don't think so. Besides, she's dead anyway…or soon will be. That's the price of betrayal."

"I didn't ask for your life story dickwad," Dean spat. "Just get the fuck outta the booth and away from _her_."

"You heard him. Get out," Sam commanded as he stood next his brother.

"Ah, but look, you're causing a scene," the vampire purred, still playing with Abby's hair.

Fear filled Dean as he watched her face go paler by the second. They had to get her out and fast.

"Is there a problem here," a biker said from behind Dean. "Is there a problem with your woman," he nodded to Basil.

"She's just a little drunk," he smiled, quickly covering the wounds in her neck with her hair. "But these two men are trying to take her outta here with out my consent."

"Ok, I think you two should get outta here," another biker chimed in. "We don't want any trouble."

"What trouble?"

Dean turned back towards the voice to find Dylan between himself and the bikers. His son smiled up them and repeated what he had said previously.

"What trouble, guys? These two aren't trouble," he said, nodding towards his father and uncle. Dean could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as Dylan continued speaking to the men. He'd had a similar feeling once before a long time ago; when James had influenced the girl vampires in Chicago. Yes. It was that same monotone voice, that same feeling of energy being sucked out of the room. Dylan was using his powers to influence the people in the bar.

"He, on the other hand," Dylan continued, this time pointing to the vampire at the booth. "He has ruffied the young woman and was going to take advantage of her."

"Oh really," the larger biker roughly said, straightening out his jean vest before approaching the man in the booth. "I think _you_ better get goin'."

"Come on," the other biker said, pulling the vampire up by the collar.

"Easy, easy," the vamp laughed. "I'm going."

He confidently walked between Dean and Sam as he exited.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered to Dean. "The bitch is already dead."

The vampire triumphantly chuckled and turned to leave. Dean took one more look at Abby before he strode after the douchebag, spun him around and punched him right in the face.


	2. Tired of Getting Nowhere

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Dean sat in the motel chair next to the bed, watching her sleeping form. He was shocked at her appearance. He had seen his wife strong before, but what stretched out on the comforter in front of him wasn't a petite woman. No, it was the lithe form of a predator, who had obviously done a pretty damn good job hunting.

He was honestly at a loss. What was he supposed to do? Should he grab her and shake some frickin' sense into her? Make her see what the Hell was actually goin' on? Should he kiss her like he wanted to or would that make her feel uncomfortable?

He had been truly worried when he saw Abby at the back of that bar, and it took every amount of patience and strength inside him not to run to the back and slice the guy right then and there. The dude had put his hands on Abby. He was officially toast.

His knuckles were bruised from punching the bastard. Dean straightened out his fingers to increase the blood flow, his own face still hurting from when the douche got in one good punch. Getting hit from a vamp was like getting hit in the head with a metal bat.

He had basically knocked the vampire out of the bar, his rage from the past months taking over.

"Dean," Sam had yelled from behind, chasing after him. "Dean! Stop!"

Dean didn't stop. He hit him five more times, square in the jaw, a sick grin across the vampire's face the entire time.

"Get em'," one of the patrons yelled, cheering him on. Dean punched him once more, knocking him to the ground.

"Dad, _stop_!"

He looked up from the asshole on the ground to his daughter, standing in the doorway. She bent down and picked up the disoriented vampire, tossing him easily over her shoulder.

"I'll go out and take care of him," she said, slapping the enemy's face. "You get Mom from Sammy and do your job."

Dean nodded and turned back to his son and brother. Dylan was doing his best to mentally influence everyone in the bar. Well, from the looks of it, it was more like brainwashing, the old 'nothing to see here' game. From the patron's blank stares, it seemed to be working.

His own eyes focused on Sam, holding his burden in his arms. Abby was limp, pale…and beautiful. Her hair was matted against her neck, the blood staining her white tank top.

He immediately went to his brother and took her. Her chest moved up slightly and she gasped in pain; she was alive.

"I've got you," he whispered to her before turning back to Sam. "Call if you need me. You'll know where I'll be."

"Take care of her and yourself," Sam smiled. "See you in a few days…hopefully."

"You too, Sammy," he nodded, pulling Abby closer to his chest.

He had rushed her to the hotel she had been stayin' at one town over, renting the room for one more solid week under her name. Dean knew she'd need time to rest and recoup from the injuries inflicted by that _prick_.

_'No worries,' _he told himself. _'April took care of him. He won't bother Abby anymore. In fact, he won't be messin' with anyone anymore, period.'_With caring devotion, he'd watched her for days as she slept, making sure to clean her wounds and got something to eat. He sat her up and basically poured warm blood down her throat every couple hours or so. Her neck was already healed, her bruises fading. Yet, she wasn't movin'.

He rubbed the sleeplessness out of his eyes, beggin' himself to stay alert. Then he heard something that instantly stirred him; rustling from the bed.

* * *

Abby woke up, finding her eyes too heavy to open. With all her strength, she opened them to find a shadow pacing in the room in front of her. As soon as she moved, he stopped and seemed to focus on her. She pushed herself up, ready to run if she had to, only to find something push her back down. She growled.

"Easy, easy," a voice soothed, setting her back down in the bed. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

A stinging pain from her neck forced her back down onto the bed.

"Fuck," she gasped, gripping the comforter.

"It still hurts," he asked, obvious concern in his voice.

She couldn't answer.

"What do you need...to feel better," he asked.

"I need to eat," she gasped and that's when she tasted it. She recognized the delicious smell as it drifted down her throat. Not only that, but it was _potent_. In her hungry state, she didn't think as she lunged at him, her canines out.

"Ab," he gasped as she pressed him against the wall, trying to get at his throat. "Ab, snap outta it and wake up!"

It was too late, even fully awake the bloodlust had completely taken over. She had no control over her actions.

"Goddamn it," he said as he kept her face away from her throat. "Sorry." He kicked her hard in the stomach, forcing her backwards onto the bed. She quickly rebounded onto her feet, crouching in front of him, growling.

"Abby, think about what you're doin," he pleaded. She had the feeling that he was trying to look her in the eyes; she only saw his white throat. She jumped at him again and winced as she felt a pinch in her shoulder. Abby suddenly felt very weak, languid, and began to weave.

"You son of a bitch," she cursed as she collapsed on the floor.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he sighed. "You kinda left me no choice." He didn't dare pick her up. That was good. She still coulda grabbed his neck from that angle.

"Do you keep the red stuff in the fridge," he asked as she heard the clanking of bottles in the hotel mini-fridge.

"Yeah," she muttered, leaning her head against the bed.

"Why does this stuff look different? It's redder than usual."

"It's human."

"Fuck," he whispered, as he rummaged thru the fridge. "Do you have any non-people based food?"

"Should be some in back," she grumbled. She didn't want animal. Abby wanted the sweet elixir she had grown fond of.

With her eyes shut, she could hear her meal being heated up in the microwave followed by heavy steps. He forced a warm mug in her hand.

"Drink until you're full," he ordered. "I don't wanna go another round with you."

So she did, she swallowed down the mug and asked for more. He heated another glass and brought it to her. Three mugs later, she finally felt satisfied.

"Better," he asked, squatting in front of her.

"I'm better," she mumbled, finally able to open her eyes fully. It was like coming out of surgery and the anesthesia. Her gaze met his. _His_. The one she had been longing for...and hating herself for it. Thinking she was weak for so desperately wanting him even after everything that had happened. She didn't know whether to hug him or punch him.

"_You_," she hissed. "Get out."

"Nice to see you too," he said, lifting her up and tossing her on the bed. "There, relax. You got beat up pretty bad." He walked over to the door and looked out the peep hole. Wait...walked?

"Dean - you're - you're..." She couldn't help it. Her heart swelled with happiness for him.

"Walking? Yeah, I am," he smiled. God, that smile; _her _favorite smile. No, she wouldn't let that break her.

"Look, we gotta talk, Ab."

"No, we don't. I assume you got the papers," she said, moving her arms protectively over her chest.

"Yeah, and I ain't signin' them."

"_Jerk_," she muttered to herself. "I'm not talking to you about anything. Get. Out."

"No, we are talkin' and that's it. No more fucking around. We're gonna get this straightened out right now."

She got up from the bed and approached him at the door, reaching around him for the door handle.

"What are you doin," he smirked.

"Leaving. If you aren't going, I am."

"I don't think you are," he devilishly smiled. God, he needed to stop that.

"And why is that," she asked, taking a step back and raising her eyebrow. She could tell by the way he was looking at her, he'd missed her. A lot.

"Well," he grinned while he fished through his jacket. "I have this." He held up her silver bloodstone cuff.

She reached down to her left wrist and felt to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

"You asshole."

"Easy, sugar," he smirked. "This was just to make sure you wouldn't bolt with out hearing the whole story. You know, like you normally do."

"Fuck you," she sneered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You're a cheater."

"What, and you aren't," he spat, he knelt down in front of her. "You promised me that you wouldn't go for humans again. When April told me, I didn't believe it. But look. At. You. You're svelte and stronger than ever...hell your eyes are even darker than usual. I can tell you been after the Solient Green."

"Oh no -- You can't make me feel bad, Dean."

"Whatever," he said. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just can't hide that I'm disappointed. That's why I'm holding you hostage."

"What?"

"Your ass is staying here until we get this sorted out...and you detox."

"What gives you the right, Dean?! Why do you think you have the right to anymore? I'll give you one thing, Winchester, you've got balls."

"Yeah, I do," he crookedly grinned. "Now you're gonna sit here and listen to what I have to say."

She'd never seen Dean so stern with her, and part of her, deep down, kinda liked it. He really had something he wanted to get out.

"Look, we gotta get this sorted out. Now before it's too late. I - I don't wanna lose you," he said, his eyes sincere. He took her hand in his. "I - I don't wanna spend the rest of my life thinkin' I let you run out with out tryin' to pull you back. And most of all -- I don't wanna have to hunt you."


	3. Cold as Ice

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In reponse to unicornofrainbow's review, I'm putting a character profile up on my profile tonight with all the names and images.

* * *

Dean casually leaned back in the dinette chair, his feet resting up on the mini-fridge. There was no way she was going to be able to get past him to get grub. The plan was simple; wait until she fell asleep and then dump out any remaining human-based beverage in the cooler. Boom. Temptation gone. Should make the detox easier on her....he hoped.

She sat on the bed in front of him, her legs pulled up to her chest, trembling. Out of the corner of his eye, he discovered an extra blanket on the table and tossed it to her, never leaving his post. Abby nodded in thanks and wrapped it around herself. From the look on her face and the amount of shaking, it seemed that the cleansing process had already begun. In other words, she looked like hell. He had to admit, he hated having to do see her go through it again, but it was her own damn fault. She knew what starting on the stuff yet again would do to her once she'd start and have to stop, unless she never really had the intent to stop at all. There was always that route and it hurt him. Deeply. He couldn't, in good conscience, continue to let her manipulate people into being blood donors, even if she did let them continue living.

He watched her as her eyes drifted aimlessly about the floor, intentionally not making any eye contact with him. Dean had honestly never seen her so strong and yet so weak. After everything they'd been through...it was obvious she didn't fucking trust him.

"Didn't you say that you were gonna talk and I was gonna listen," she said, finally raising her head, her eyes vacant.

"What, you gonna actually listen now," he sternly asked.

She shrugged. Guess that was all he was goin' to get.

So, he started from the beginning.

She listened intently as he told her about how he, Sam and the kids discovered Hannah wasn't what she seemed, but was most likely a witch. Dean went on through all the details; seeking answers from The Crossroads Demon, trying to track down Hannah only to find it was like she never existed, taking care of the kids, April leavin' and coming back angry at her mother, his daughter giving him back his car before ripping out the steering wheel, his little girl vowing to make him better…

"Come on, Dad! Push it," April yelled next to him as she forced him to move faster.

"I am, damnit," he swore through the pain. His legs were burnin'. She turned and ran backwards facing him, barking orders to move his ass. "Not fair! You've got vamp legs that don't get tired!"

"Oh they do get tired...tired of you slowin' them down," she joked, sticking out her tongue.

"You, you're gonna get it now," Dean yelled, sprinting after her.

"Slow down old man and don't hurt yourself," she teased.

_'Old man, huh,'_ he smiled to himself, before tripping her leg. April fell to the ground rolling around, laughing hysterically.

"Ok! ok," she huffed. "You got me good."

"You alright," he asked, helping her up. As soon as she was on her two feet, she gave him a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Daddy," she grinned. "You're just getting better and better and it didn't take that long now, did it?"

Seemed long enough to him. In actuality, it was two months of intense training with the therapist and April, along with her brother, to get him back on his feet and walking around. It was another two months of blood, sweat and tears to get him into peak form. His body was better then than it was when he was in his twenties. He had to admit though, the workouts his kids put him through were grueling. Honestly, his children were slave drivers. Even Sammy, who joined them on occasion, finished almost every run with a good puke. It was almost as hard as chasing demons.

He was even he was proud of himself. Even after all the extreme training, he was happy to know he was almost at the finish line and it was all for his family.

"Any word on your mom," he had asked one night after a family dinner with the kids along with Sam and Ruby. Jamie was outside playing with a kid he'd met from Sam's neighborhood.

"From what I've gathered," Dylan started as he handed April his dish, "she was headed south towards…"

"Florida," Dean and Sam said at the same time.

"Figures," April butted in. "If I was a vampire with a debilitating allergy to the sun, Florida wouldn't be my first choice, but that's Mom for ya."

"Lenore said she's been taking cases from the nest but also seems to be working on other stuff on her own as she goes along," Dylan continued.

"Alright," Dean said, getting up to leave. "I'm gonna head home and start packing up the Impala and hit the road. I think I'm ready."

"Whoa, Dean. You're not thinking you're doing this on your own," Sam said. "If what April said is true, about the human blood, it might be dangerous…even for you."

"She won't hurt me," he said.

"Pssh, I don't know about that, Dad," April interjected. "The bloodlust is crazy. It's strong, and it will be difficult for Mom to stop even if she knows you. It really depends on how hungry she'll be."

"And angry," Ruby said, playing with her dessert. "Let's not forget that she's still pissed at you."

"You need back up," Sam said. "Honestly."

"I think I can handle her."

"Dad, we want both of you back in one piece, and you're goal to get Mom may put you in other danger. At least we can be there to be a set of eyes and ears for you."

"So, what, now EVERYONE is goin'," he asked.

"I'll stay here and watch Jamie," Ruby said.

"Thanks, Ruby," he smiled before the foursome left on their journey.

They searched the state for a week until they came across a tip from someone from Lenore's clan, and they found her in a shady bar outside of Tampa just in time.

"Well, and here we are," Dean ended his story, rocking back on the chair. "I'm here with you, trying to get your head outta your ass."

Abby's body shook, her skin looking paler. She was getting sicker by the minute, the power of the human blood depleting from her system. On top of that, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she had gazed into his mind during his story and had seen that everything he divulged was true. Her black eyes were devastated.

He resisted the urge to pull her to him and comfort her. Dean wasn't sure how'd she'd react yet. But what he did notice was her health was failing. Slowly, he raised his hand to her forehead.

"What are you doing," she chattered.

"You're freezing," he said, his palm actually stinging from the intense cold. "Come on." He lifted her up, her body too weak to fight back, and carried her to the bathroom. Gently, he set her down in the tub, got her mostly undressed and turned on the hot water.

"Wh-wh-what are y-y-ou doing," she hissed as she shivered.

"We gotta raise your body temp. It'll make you more comfortable."

She nodded with a quake. He sat next to the tub, diligently keeping tabs on her, running more hot water when it got too cool. Hell, he even held her hair back when she got physically sick. That was love.

"We'll get through this, babe," he sighed as he rubbed her back. "I promise."

* * *

She was in a warm cocoon on the bed, tightly wrapped by three blankets.

"Better," he asked, taking a seat next to her. She would nod if she could, but she couldn't move.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Thanks."

Abby didn't think it would be awkward to have him next to her again, but it truly was. After months and months of loving and hating him at the same time, she wasn't sure how to feel around him. Even after seeing the truth in his mind, she couldn't make her icy exterior drop. He must have felt it too. Dean kept his arms over his chest as he laid on the bed next to her, leaving some distance between himself and his wife.

_'Gotta make sure she's comfortable,' _his mind repeated, even though the images flashing through was of him taking hold of her, kissing and adoring. In other words, he thought going too fast would fuck it up, this time for good.

"Wanna watch a movie or something," Dean said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Sure."

He grabbed the hotel remote, flipping through the channels until he came to one of her favorite movies. She remembered that conversation when they first started their secret trysts years before. Between rounds, they had casual chats that most people dating would've had: What's your favorite food? What's your favorite color? What's your favorite movie?

The movie question had been a hard one. When they'd first come out, she'd been fascinated by moving pictures. After all the time before that, even after seeing the birth of photography in general, it was _an amazing sight to behold. _

"Oh, that's a hard one," she'd laughed, sitting Indian-style on the bed in front of Dean over ten years before. "Let's see…Disney movies, _Gone with the Wind_, _Rear Window_, _Rebecca_, _Niagara_, _The Kid_, _The Great Train Robbery_…hmmm… **oh **and _The_ _Blues Brothers_."

Dean fell off the bed from laughing so hard.

"Seriously," he smirked, obvious surprise written all over his face. "You? You like _The_ _Blues Brothers_?"

"Love it," she had admitted with a chuckle.

Now, years later, they were next to each other in a similar hotel room watching that same movie on cable.

Abby tried to hold it together and not shiver too much and just enjoy the show, but she couldn't help it. Her body was almost convulsing. Her veins burned. She didn't remember the process of detoxing being that undeniably painful and miserable.

Dean sighed and pulled her to his side, wrapping her in his arms, his hand caressing her shoulder.

"Is this ok? I'm just tryin' to keep you warm. You're still freezing," he whispered into her hair, keeping his grip slightly lose. Her chest clenched. A layer of ice around her heart began to melt; she wanted to say she wanted to be held tighter, but instead, found herself mute.

Halfway through the movie, she decided in her exhaustion that she was being silly and she laid her head on Dean's chest. In response, he wrapped his strong arms more securely around her. His heartbeat was soothing, and quite possibly the most beautiful sound she had ever heard in her life. It scared her to think that, at one point, it was stopped. She quivered again which caused Dean to kiss her hair.

"I'm sorry," she softly whispered. "Please forgive me for not believing -"

"Stop," he said. "You don't need to say anything. If I were in your position and I walked in on that scenario months back…don't think I would have done anything different. Well, except I probably would have ganked the fucker."

"Well I almost did. If you wouldn't have made me stop, I would have," she sighed.

"I said it that night and I stand by it. You're not a killer. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Alright?"

She nodded against his chest, smiling as he gave her one good squeeze.

Abby felt herself falling asleep, but made herself stay up for her favorite part.

"It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses," Dean recited Elwood Blue's line.

"Hit it," she mumbled and smiled to herself.

She drifted off to sleep for the first time in months with a slight smile playing on her lips. Even though her moment of happiness was over something as stupid as reciting lines of a movie together, it gave her a glimmer of hope. Sure, she knew it was going to be rough for a while; her trust in anyone and everyone had been tested those last months. But, nothing had felt as safe or as right as it had been at that moment.

"G'night, babe," he whispered as she drifted off peacefully.

* * *

"Hi Jesse," April whispered into her cellphone, leaning on the brick wall outside of the hotel room she was sharing with Sam and her brother.

"Are you alright," he asked. "Did you find your mom?"

"Yeah, Dad's with her right now. I think she'll be alright, thank god. How are you, Jes?"

"I'm alright. I - I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I'm still not a fan of you going after vamps ya know. It's dangerous."

"Dude, I can handle myself," she giggled, causing him to laugh.

"I know. I know. You're a strong girl. Just being paranoid I guess. I just -- I love you, April."

'_Did he just say love?'_

"Uh, luvyatoo," she hurriedly said. "Goodnight." She snapped the phone shut quickly.

"So, _love_, huh?"

She turned towards a male voice beside her; one that she hadn't heard in a long time.

He was leaning casually up against the wall alongside her, his dark eyes filled with irresistible danger.

"_Wes? What _are you doing here?"


	4. Trial By Fire

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 03/12/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"Hey kid," he purred, gracefully pushing himself away from the wall with his boot.

"Stay back," she hissed, her hands clenching into fists. He took a deliberate step forward. "I said. Stay. Back."

With a devious grin, he put the other foot one step closer. April growled deep from her chest and jumped at him. Wes caught her mid leap and quickly had her back against his chest, his hand securely over her mouth.

"Shh," he whispered as he pulled around to the back of the building. She tried desperately to gain footing, just enough to kick and run. It wasn't going to happen; he was too damn strong and her feet weren't touching the ground. Instead, she extended her canines and bit down hard on his hand.

"Aggh, damn it," he swore. April jumped from his grasp and spun around in a defensive crouch. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Just stay away from me," April said. "Now, answer my question: what are you doing here?"

"I came to warn you," he said, wrapping his hand with a handkerchief he pulled from his jacket.

"That's laughable. You came to warn me that you were here," she raised an eyebrow.

"No," he hissed. "I came to warn you that you need to get out of town."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you," he said, his eyes looking dangerous. "Just, please, get out of here as soon as possible."

"No," she hissed, moving closer to him. "Why would I trust you after finding out what you did to Jesse and me? Do you think I'm some kinda of idiot?"

"Is that what you think," he said, his eyes wide in surprise. "You think that I think you're an idiot?"

"Yes. And do you admit what you did to me? The dream stalking?"

"Yes. But you have to understand, April. I - I had to do it."

"No, I don't understand," she said, approaching closer. "Why would you want to hurt me? I - I thought we were fri-"

"Friends? Friends come and go, April," he smirked, the smile not quite meeting his eyes.

"Wes, why did you do it," she said, approaching closer. "You hurt me."

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I had to do what I had to do -- but I meant what I said before. Leave town soon. You and your family are in danger."

He turned and sprinted into the darkness.

"Wait," April yelled, hurriedly chasing after him. It was too late, he was already gone. Strange, but there was something very weary in his voice and eyes; something that screamed that he wanted to be forgiven. Odd that Jesse had said almost the same thing when she confronted him; basically they were both keeping something from her. Perhaps it was best to be on her guard with either of them.  

"April, is something wrong," Sam asked, looking up from his seat at the kitchenette in a corner of the suite. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something?"   
   
"Ha. Ha," she tried to joke, her skin still tingling from her encounter with the vampire.  

"Seriously, sis, you've been standing catatonic in the doorway now for a few minutes. What's up," Dylan pressed as he continued to lounge on the couch.  

_Huh?_ She looked to her left and right and discovered the door jam. Sure enough, she had somehow managed to walk back to the hotel room in a daze with absolutely no recollection of it.    
"We need to go," she said, rushing into the room to pack her bag. Her brother and uncle promptly went to her side.  

"What," Sam said. She felt his hands grip her shoulders and he forced her to look him in the eye. "April, what's going on?"  

"I'll tell you on the way home, alright," she said, shoving her last bit of clothes and weaponry in the bag. "Get packing you two. And Uncle Sammy, call Dad and tell him he and Mom need to skedaddle too." 

"April," Sam sighed.  

"_Please_, just believe me. I swear, I'll explain later."  

"Ok," Sam replied. "Dyl, pack up. I'll give Dean a call."  

* * *

"Why did April say we had to leave," Abby asked, dropping her bag in the new hotel room, her body still slightly shaky even after three days of getting the human blood out of her system.

"Sam didn't say. He just said that she told us to…skedaddle I think was the word. You ok," he questioned, locking the door securely behind him.  

She nodded that she was alright.  

"Awesome," he smirked. "Now, you go have some grub from the cooler, take a nap, and then shower and get ready. Whatever it is you chicks need to do."  

"Ready," she asked, raising an eyebrow.  

She tried to look into his mind, only to find him going through the lyrics of some Rush song.  

"Ha. Ha. Blocked ya," he joked, plopping with exhaustion onto the opposite bed. "Stop snooping. It's a surprise."  

"You're no fun anymore," she pouted, reaching into the cooler for a drink.   She chugged it back, almost having to hold her nose to get it down. Abby's final answer; animal was swill compared to the sweet, aromatic, deliciousness of human -- Dean's pulse sounded loudly, taking focus in her mind.  

_'Calm yourself, Ab,' _she warned. His pulse pounded in her ears from across the room, his breathing rhythmically slow. She cautiously glanced over to the other bed to see him sprawled out, his hand over his face. Her eyes traced his body from his feet up to his hair, until her gaze captured the pulsating vein in his neck. The canine teeth in her mouth elongated, slicing into her lower lip.  

"No," she whispered to herself, turning away as quickly as possible. It was _Dean _she was looking at as food…and it would be all too easy to leap on top of him when he was defenseless like…_"No."_  

"Hmm… you say somethin," Dean mumbled in his sleep, tossing and turning over in the bed.  

Abby swiped another bag of blood and forced it down, making herself as full as a tick. Still, his blood was calling to her. She blurred quickly to the bathroom and locked the door, turning on the shower to drown out the whispered sound of his heart coming from the other room.  

"That's _Dean_," she reminded herself as she covered her ears. "That's _Dean_. You won't hurt him. You can't hurt him. What is wrong with you?"  

Wes' words ran through her head. _'Abby, humans are our _food_. When will you stop torturing yourself and give in?'_  

And she had given in to the need. The lust. The satisfaction. However, she could stop herself and not give into the ultimate temptation; she couldn't kill someone. But, even just to drink from Dean seemed…blasphemous. He had so much goddamned faith in her. It would destroy him spiritually to see her fail, and, in the end, she'd let him kill her and if he wouldn't, she'd handle it herself. There was no alternative.  

Knock. Knock. Knock.  

She froze.  

"Abby," his voice called to her, still raw with sleep. "Hey, babe, are you ok?" 

"Fine," her voice cracked. She listened for his pulse, finding she could still hear it but the need was gone. Thank god.  

"Ok," Dean replied with a tone that said he didn't believe her. "It's just, you've been in there for over an hour…I was just checkin. Holler if you need me."   

_'God do I need you, Dean. Maybe a little too much.'_  

It was only then that she noticed the water sprinkling onto her flesh was freezing cold. He was right; she had been in there for quite some time.  

"Dean," she called as she literally jumped out of the shower, blindly reaching for something to dry off with. "When you said to get ready, what did you mean? What should I wear?"  

"Look nice I guess," he chuckled from the room.

She finished with her towel and wrapped it around herself, her damp, dark hair tumbling down her back in smooth, black waves. Abby opened the bathroom door and entered their shared room, moving over to her suitcase on the bed to put together an outfit. 

"What does 'nice' mean," she teased, her hands carefully organizing a casual evening look. He didn't answer. "Hello? Earth to Dean?"  

Abby curiously turned her head to the side and stared at him through her strands of wet hair. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with lust in his eyes. Dean was eyeing her in a way that he personally hadn't in almost a year. His gaze spoke of a want; of a primal need. The hunter in her could see it a mile a way, the vampire in her was filled with the pride of attraction and the woman in her wanted him to take her.  With a sly smile, she straightened herself up and dropped the towel. Abby dipped down and put her heels on first, not having to look up to notice Dean was enjoying her tease. With a slight slinkiness, she stood up and pulled a halter dress over her head. She spun around in front of him, her arms out, seeking approval.  

"Well, is this 'nice?'"   Dean walked closer to her, his eyes focused on her own. His stare made her catch her breathe.   

_'Not yet,' _his thoughts yelled. _'Don't do it yet. Trust. Trust. Trust…'_  

"I gotta go shower," Dean hurriedly said, walking around her and heading towards the bathroom. _'A very cold shower.'_

Abby plopped down on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest, pondering Dean's thoughts as he had maneuvered around her. _Trust_, he had repeated. Was _he_ looking for her trust? Did _he_ trust _her_?  

_'Maybe he shouldn't,' _she sighed, reminding herself of the near slip-up earlier in the day. _'Maybe it would be best if he didn't trust me at all. At least I would know he'd be safe.'_   

* * *

Dean cracked the door open and looked into the room to find Abby on the bed watching TV. With a subtle click from the remote, he knew she had heard him. 

"Thanks for putting the clothes in the bathroom," he said, smoothing out his shirt. "Didn't hear you come in."  

"That was the point," she sighed. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You look nice."  

"Thanks. You too." Well, truth was, she looked more than nice; she looked sexy as hell.  

He was surprised to find a neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter as he strolled out of the shower. But, at the same time, that was Abby; always tryin' to help. She knew Dean planned something 'nice,' so he had to look 'nice' with her. A pair of nice dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a gray-green long sleeved shirt rounded out the pile. He had to admit, she knew how to make him feel comfortable and look good without making him look like a tool.  

"So, where are we going," she said, getting up from the bed and gathering up her purse.  

"To the car," he smiled, opening the door for her. She huffed and rolled her eyes.  

"Stop blocking me," she said as she slammed the passenger door of the Impala shut. He couldn't help but laugh at her. After all, a frustrated Abby was…well fun. Fun and totally attractive.  

"What, you don't like that song, Ab?"  

She lightly whacked him in the arm.  

"That's abuse you know," he crookedly smiled.  

"What, you gonna go all _Lifetime_ movie on me now," she joked.  He put on some tunes as he continued driving. Dean couldn't hold back a smile as Abby sighed heavily in the seat next to him. She was getting restless.  

"Well, I guess I let you in on my secret," Dean said. "We're going out to dinner."  

"Dinner," she questioned, leaning forward purposefully so he could see her as he drove. "Dinner?"  

"Yep, at a restaurant. Thought, maybe, you were ready to be around people again."  

"You're TESTING me?! Brilliant. Fucking super. Dean -- this is so not a good idea," she said, setting her head back in the headrest of the passenger seat, her body clearly strained.  

"Tell me why not? It's been over five days now, longer than it took for April to get better."  

"Yeah, but I've been indulging for a lot longer than she had, Dean! I -- I don't know if I can do this."  

"Why," Dean snapped as he pulled the car over to the side of the road outside their destination city's limits. "Why the fuck not?"  

He parked the car and twisted in his seat and watched her rigid form next to him. She looked like she was in pain. He instantly regretted his move.  

"Dean -- it's hard enough to be in the same car with you right now…and now -- now I'll be in the same place with a ton of people…people I don't care enough to stop from ripping out their throats," she panted, tilting her head towards him, her dark eyes penetrating. "That's the only reason I'm not hurting you right now. It's so much harder this time, Dean."  

"Hey, hey, look at me," he said, tilting her chin up so their gaze met. "You're not gonna hurt anyone. At some point, you're gonna have to get back out in the real world again. I can't parent alone, Ab. And, for fuck's sake, I can't go to another one of those horrible Parent Teacher things for Jamie. You always said that would be your job. We just need you to be ok enough to talk and not want to rip her throat out…although last time I wanted to kill her myself --"  

"This isn't something to joke about," Abby replied, deadly serious. "This is real. I don't know if I can restrain myself with so many people around…"  

"You can. You've been doing good so far. Plus, I trust you…and I promise, I won't let you do anything to those people. Got it," he smirked.  

With a heavy sigh of remorse, she nodded in accord.  

"Good. Buckle up," Dean said as he put the car back into gear and headed into town.  


	5. In The Evening

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 03/12/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"You ok," he asked, keeping a close eye on her from across the bistro table.

She couldn't answer, but if she could, the answer would be no. Absolutely not. Abby was taking her time to try to concentrate on anything else in the outdoor restaurant. That was her saving grace; the eatery was out in the fresh air. If she was inside with all the people…well god help them.

Dean smiled and pushed a cup of coffee towards her across the table.

"It's supposed to affect your sense of smell somehow. Figure it would help. Drink."

She took the cup in her shaky hands and sipped. He was right; it was helping. The rich aroma of the brew was messing with her smell receptors, therefore making humans more tolerable.

"So," he started between bites of a huge dish of pasta, "I gotta question. I've always been curious about this. If you could eat any human food, what would you think you could handle?"

_Bleh._

Dean laughed at the face she made, almost choking on his own food.

"While that is a relatively disgusting thought for me, I guess I'd have to go with steak?"

"Interesting," he smirked, his cheeks full of food.

"Well, cooked raw, I think it would be similar to…my current diet. But there has been one food that has constantly fascinated me."

"Do tell."

"Ice cream. Everyone always seems so happy when they eat it. It's as if ice cream heals all wounds. Dylan used to cry 'cause he scraped his knee -- ice cream. April still heads to the freezer when she's upset."

"It is an awesome comfort food. We'll do that next--go get ice cream cause now you got me in the mood for some."

"What does it taste like," she asked, not looking up as she swirled her coffee with the stirrer.

"Ice Cream? Well, it's cold obviously…and it's creamy. Smooth. I don't know, they all taste a little different."

"Thanks for that," she laughed "You established its icy and creamy…thus the name ice cream. Brilliant."

He suggested that when they go, she should try coffee ice cream, 'cause at least she knew what that tasted like. He did have a point there. Maybe she would get to enjoy it after all.

She watched with a mixture of enjoyment and disgust as Dean finished his meal. Lord, the boy sure could eat a lot. Abby checked in her purse to see if she still kept Tums in there for him later. Yep. That would surely be needed as the night went on.

Part of her had to admit, test or not, she was enjoying herself. Dean was doing his best to distract her, keeping the conversation light and playful…almost like a date. That was something she had regretted from their relationship. She and Dean had never taken the time to get to know each other that well. They had been both lost souls, searching for someone to understand them. Outcast met outcast and well, the sparks flew and ignited quickly. But, besides the occasional soul bearing before their first tryst, there was only the attraction and loneliness. It was the need for humanity that brought the two of them together. She could only imagine the lighthearted fun they could have had if they would have taken it a tad slower. Then again, life back then had been dark and foreboding, especially for Dean.

She shook regrets out of her head and focused on the man in front of her. He was still there and loved her more than ever. Hell, he loved her enough to take it slow now, which meant more to her than he would ever know. And she knew for a fact it was hard for him to take it slow with her; his mind went through entire albums of songs to avoid thinking of going somewhere and ripping her clothes off -- not that she'd really complain. After all, Dean and Abby were still married and still very much in love. No matter how much she hated him in the when she left, thinking he had betrayed her, she couldn't deny in her heart that she loved him. How could she deny the man who had trekked across states, tracking her progress on her own quest, and rescuing her from her own hell? He was her own personal savior.

"Ready to go," Dean asked as he threw down a wad of cash to pay the tab.

"Yeah," she smiled up at him. He took her hand in his and led her off the restaurant patio and onto the sidewalk of the quaint downtown area.

"This place is really charming," Abby smiled, looking around at all the mom and pop shops lit by artistic, elegant street lamps.

"It's got great food. That's pretty much all I can say about it," he smirked, nudging her playfully in the side.

Her heart skipped as his thumb caressed the back of her hand. Good God, did he know the affect he had over women? From that smile playing across his lips, yes, he most definitely did.

Speaking of hearts, she could suddenly hear more than just Dean's heartbeat. _Concentrate_, Abby thought.

_Thump Thump. Thump Thump. Thump Thump._

"Ab?"

She hadn't realized she had closed her eyes or stopped walking. Apparently she had done both. Her body was rigid as Dean's arms gripped the top of her shoulder.

"You tell me if we need to go alright? I'm gonna trust you to be the judge of that. If you feel overwhelmed at all --"

"I'm fine, Dean," she sighed. He took her hand again and led her off to a veer in the road, which looked to be headed into a wooded area. "Dean, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

She did see; it was a park. A very secluded charmingly perfect park with a small pond and artistic bridge running over it, a gazebo, benches and many types of trees. The moonlight shimmered on the pond's calm waters. It was like something out of a dream…and totally something Dean wouldn't normally bring her to. Sure, he had his moments where he was a complete romantic, but it made him feel so uncomfortable, he would usually ruin it with some sort of pornesque comment.

They walked hand in hand over the bridge, onto the path that led around the park, which seemed a lot bigger than previously thought. It was relatively empty except for a few skateboarders using some sidewalk curbs as grind rails.

"I remember you telling me about a park like this once and how you liked it. Can't remember where you said you saw it."

"New York," she smiled.

"Well, I figured you'd like this shit." And there went the romantic.

They walked quietly, their hands joined together, finger tips caressing each other's palms. It was sweet, tenderly beautiful and had been terribly neglected.

She scooted closer to him, crossing her opposite hand over to rub his arm. He shoved his free one in his jean pocket.

"I missed you," he said softly, his eyes on the trail below them.

"I missed you too," she responded just as quietly.

"You know I did this for you."

"Did what?"

"The whole walking thing," he said, staring down at his legs as they continued down a winding path around the pond. "Never thought I could do it…but with you at the finish line, who could say no."

Her heart clenched. It could possibly have been the sweetest thing he had ever uttered…no, dare she say, the sweetest thing any man had ever said to her.

"I was worried, Ab. Just thinking you were out there being that stupid and reckless…fuck I woulda strapped a rocket to my back to get out here. I had to try to talk to you and stop you."

Romance gone.

"Or else you would have had to kill me," she stated matter-of-factly. He answered with silence. "Look, I understand. You didn't really know how far gone I was from April's standpoint, but you didn't know what to expect. I wouldn't have blamed you, you know."

"I don't want to think about it," Dean snapped. "Believe me, it's not something I dream of doing. It's just -- it's my job --"

"To protect people from things like me," she said and he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were devastatingly sad, the green glistening in the moonlight. "Look, I get it. It's my job too, remember? I had sworn the same thing…and I fucked up. It would be the smart thing to do, Dean."

She watched as one tear slid down his cheek. Her heart dropped.

"Don't you _ever_ ask me to do that to you. Don't you ever give me a reason, Ab. I couldn't do it to my brother…you think I could do it to _you_?"

His hand pulled her closer to him, taking her in his arms. No matter what underlying primal need was present, it didn't seem to matter anymore. She had _him fully_ and the knowledge that he'd be there to help her during her darkest hours.

She had hope. She had love. She had motivation to be good. She wanted to kiss him.

"Ow, man that was a nasty fall man," one of the teenagers muttered. "Dude you're bleeding a lot, I think you might need stitches--"

It hit her like a bus; the sweet, sticky smell of human blood. Her body quivered with the want for the hunt.

She tensed against Dean.

"Dean, hold me against you and don't let go," she struggled to say, her focus on staying where she was.

"Dude, it's really gushing everywhere."

She felt the growl bubble up from her chest and escape before she could even try to stop it. Her body tingled with the thrill. Abby could vaguely hear Dean's voice, trying desperately to coach her to help her, but it wasn't getting through. Her focus was on the beautiful red liquid spilling out of the boy's shin across the field.

Before she had the chance to leap at the unsuspecting boys, Abby found herself pinned up against a nearby tree with a knife at her throat.

* * *

April leaned against the side of her house, waiting for him to show up. It couldn't be too much longer. She figured he probably followed them back home anyway; another assurance on their safe return.

There was part of her that was still wary of his presence, but after hearing that their hotel room in Florida had been ransacked after their departure, her thoughts shifted. Wes may have in fact saved their very lives. More important to her, her family was safe from harm. She couldn't bear to think of their fate if Wes hadn't intervened.

"You rang, my lady."

Startled, she turned to her right side to find him leaning against the wall beside her. God was he gorgeous. It was striking every time she saw him.

"Why did you warn me?"

"How very blunt of you? Do you always like to cut right to the chase and avoid the pleasantries of idle conversation?"

"Why did you warn me?"

His cold demeanor began to shift, his face becoming slightly uneasy.

"You don't understand anything, child."

"Stop treating me like I'm too young and stupid to understand. Ok, so you're involved in something and you don't want me to get hurt. I get that. But I can hel- "

"No," he said sharply. "_You_ can't help. You bringing help will most assuredly bring harm to us all, and most of all to you. I told you back in Florida and I'm warning you now; stay out of this."

"No."

He looked at her with sad eyes, ones filled with a sense of longing and she saw a vision through his gaze of himself and Jesse in Civil War garb cradling a young girl who appeared to be dead. Jesse was clearly angry with Wes, his canines extended. The girl in his arms had puncture wounds in her neck.

"It's dangerous out there," he sighed. "You don't need to become a casualty."

"Like she did," April said, approaching him. "What happened?"

"How do you know that I didn't make that up and projected my thoughts," he smiled slyly. "After all, projection is not my power, right, April? I had to do bad things to get it."

"Because," she said, pressing herself closer to him. "I know you. I know I shouldn't trust you...but I do. I truly don't believe you mean to hurt people, most especially me. You could have let me get hurt before and you didn't."

"But what about your family. I just wanted _you_ to get out; I really didn't care about them. How do you know what I meant to happen?"

"Because if it was just me, you would have whisked me outta there yourself. You wanted _us_ to get away."

He pushed himself off the wall with the clear intention to leave the scene and was surprised to find April pushing him back against the cold brick. Before she knew what she was doing, she lightly pressed her lips to his. The kiss was sweet, but no less passionate. April didn't feel like she was kissing the hard lips of a cold-blooded murderer. No, his were the soft lips of a boy who had seen too much and had hardened his heart. His intent had gone from caring to survival, even if that meant stifling his humanity.

She pulled back slightly, heat rising to her cheeks.

"Thank you for helping me," she whispered, her breathe warming his face.

The steel in his eyes vanished and was replaced with dark, lost emotion. With a heavy sigh, he pulled her against him and kissed her hard. She answered by pressing into him with reckless abandon.


	6. Sing for the Day

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 03/12/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

It was merely a reflex to put the knife up. There was a hiss, a growl and she tensed in his arms. His hunter instincts kicked in and he had her pinned up against the tree, the blade glinting under her chin. Her eyes were shut tightly, her canines cutting into her lower lip. He could hear the bark ripping off the tree. Somehow, she was getting through it with her own volition.

Dean pulled the knife down to his side. He knew he may have been taking chances, but she wasn't any other vampire; that was his wife struggling. He knew his girl could do it.

"Shh," he soothed. "You're ok. You're ok. Calm down."

He had mixed feelings about seeing her struggle. For one thing, it tore him up to see her goin' through it. On the other hand, she was fightin' and fightin' hard.

There was a chance that his next move could be devastating to both of them, but it was worth it shot. Dean moved closer to her, pressing her further into the tree, and laid his forehead against hers.

Part of him thought he was an idiot. There he was making physical contact, his neck inches away from a blood thirsty vampire. If it was anybody else but Abby, he wouldn't have been doin' it.

"Shh…you're fine. They're leaving," he sighed. She pressed her forehead to his and rubbed his nose with her own. Her body started to ease, her posture becoming more comfortable. Abby's mouth relaxed and she leaned back against the oak, breathing rhythmically.

"You did it," he smirked, putting a hand above her, leaning against the tree. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she smiled panting. "And thank _you_ for your help."

"Didn't do much," Dean shrugged.

"It did for me. You apparently don't know the effect you have on me yet," she grinned. She glanced up at his hand resting on the tree and bit down on her lower lip. "Hmm, this scene looks vaguely familiar, doesn't it?"

He didn't register it at first.

_'What the hell is she talkin' about?'_

Then it hit him. A dark, starry field. A incredibly special tree. A very angry, sexually frustrated Abby. Oh yeah, he remembered alright.

"You were so adorable that night," Dean smirked, pushing her back into the rough tree bark.

"Ha. And you were a dick," she jokingly grinned as his lips got closer to his. "Torturing me with all your dirty little fantasies…and how you wanted me to scream your name…"

"Maybe I still do," he crookedly grinned, his body completely against her own. His hands skimmed down to her hips and he lifted her up in his arms, his hands cradling her behind. She smiled and instinctively wrapped her legs around him, pulling him as tight to her as possible.

He was kinda shocked when she giggled.

"What," he asked, his forehead against her own.

"Nothing. I just really missed this," she happily sighed.

"I love you," he chuckled, kissing her forehead.

"I love you too, Dean. Always."

The click of a gun cocking sounded from behind him.

_'Christ, what now?'_

Abby's eye's widened and her face was full of fear. Dean could feel a gun in his back.

"Step back from the girl," a man's voice said from behind him. "Slowly."

"We don't want any trouble," Dean said as he set Abby back on the ground. "Don't do anything stupid," he whispered to her, the gun poking more sharply.

"Keep walkin'," the man said. "Turn around."

Dean faced the man. He was a young kid, probably no more than 26, dressed in a dingy trench coat with a sawed off in his hands.

"Dude, we don't want any problems," Dean tried to defuse the situation.

"Put your fucking hands up," the strung out man told him, pointing the rifle at him.

"Is it money? Here, I can get my --"

He cocked the gun again.

"I said keep your fucking hands up! You too," he pointed the weapon at Abby, who disobeyed.

_'Will she ever fucking listen?'_

Abby must have heard him and she shook her head no.

"You, _girl_, come here," the guy ordered, pointing the aiming at her. She just smirked back at him.

_'Goddamn it, Abby. Move.'_

"Oh, I forgot. This won't work on you," the young man said. He pointed the gun away from Abby and pointed it straight at Dean. "Now, get over here bloodsucker."

_'Bloodsucker?'_

Shit…he's a hunter.

"I said NOW," he screamed, taking a shot near Dean's feet. Abby jumped at the sound and casually walked over to him. "You come with me bitch, and he won't get hurt. Alright?"

"Swear it," she said.

"I'm not taking an oath to a vampire."

Abby snarled at him and jumped, followed closely by a howl. He pulled a knife out of her arm.

She laid at his feet wincing in pain.

_'I'm gonna kill that sonofabitch!'_

"Yeah, that's dead man's blood, bitch," the cocky S.O.B mocked, giving her a kick in the side for good measure.

The douche picked her up, holding the knife up against her throat.

"You get outta here," he told Dean. "I'll take care of her."

"Oh…I don't think so," Dean mockingly chuckled. "You see, she's with _me_."

"And who are you," the kid said.

"Dean Winchester."

"Holy….THE Dean Winchester?! Wow, man. It's awesome to meet a hunter like you! Hey, we can take her out _together_! That would be an awesome story to tell the other hunters! I didn't know you were around. I've been tracking this bitch since the last town. There were a couple other vamps in town but they got away. Too bad. Oh well, at least I'll get this one anyway."

Abby growled.

_'Abby, stay calm,' _Dean thought, praying she would hear him_. 'I mean it. Don't move.'_

"Well, dude, she's with _me_."

The boy's face dropped.

"_What_?"

"That's my wife you've got a knife to, and if you wanna live for another few minutes, you'll drop her and get the fuck outta Dodge."

"She's -- you gotta be kidding me. After idolizing you…you're married to a fucking bloodsucker," he yelled, pressing the knife closer to Abby.

_'Chill Chill. I won't let him hurt you anymore,' _he sent to her.

She nodded.

"Don't _you_ move," the hunter seethed.

Dean looked about for a weapon and noticed the kid had dropped his gun not too far away. He must have lost it when he went after Abby with the knife.

He could get it quickly…but before he cut Abby; that was another question. He'd need a quick distraction.

_'Abby, I'm going to need you. On my signal, you're going to have to elbow him enough for him to let you go and I can get the gun. OK?'_

She nudged her head upwards, her body tensing for the attack.

_'The password is Matrix.'_

She looked back at him in confusion.

_'Just do it, alright? Christ.'_

"Ok, dude. Just let her go and we won't have a problem. Hey, did anyone ever tell you with that coat on ,you look like that fruit from _The Matrix_?"

She elbowed the hunter hard in the sternum. Dean rolled on the ground over to the sawed off and pointed it up at their assailant. Abby hobbled over to him and helped him up, the asshole never moving from Dean's sight. He pushed her behind him. It gave him more of a sense of security.

"You alright, babe," Dean asked.

"I'll be alright," she hissed. "It's not too deep. I'm already healing."

"Good."

"Fuck," the boy winced as Dean strutted over to him, writhing on the ground. "I idolized you man! Young hunters look up to you…and you're _fucking a vampire_?! You're no _hero_, man."

"No, I'm not," Dean said, and proceeded to hit the kid in the head with the butt of the rifle. "That outta shut him the fuck up."

Abby went over and kicked him hard in the side.

"That's for stabbing me, asshole," she spat. "Wait, I gotta a better idea."

With a smirk that only could mean trouble, she bent down by his ear and started to whisper.

"When you wake up, you won't remember anything that's happened for days now. All you'll remember is being drunk and a cute biker named Roscoe you met in a bar. Sure, you enjoyed experimenting…"

Dean's sides hurt from laughing so hard as she concocted an elaborate story of sex, drugs and rock and roll.

"Ab, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I still have my power of suggestion…not sure why. I'm sure it'll fizzle out eventually. But, smoke 'em if you got 'em!"

"Come on, you're going to really fuck him over with your story. That would be cruel. Awesome but cruel."

"Yeah it would be," she said, raising her eyebrows.

Dean shook his head disapprovingly.

"Alright! Alright," she sighed. She leaned down to the hunter's side again. "Forget everything I said before. Remember what I'm telling you right now. There are no such things as vampires or the supernatural. If you have any evidence of it, it's because you're obsessed with television shows like X-Files and Buffy. You've never heard of Dean Winchester or the Winchester family. In fact, when you wake up, you won't be a hunter anymore. Go back to school and get a real job, asshole," she kicked him in the side again and faced Dean. "There. Better?"

"That'll do," he smiled, pulling her to him. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Can we go back to the hotel now? Not that I didn't enjoy the night. I had a great time. Just like old times. Thank you."

Dean kissed the top of her head as they strolled back to the car.

Damn. The night had almost been awesome. Well, it had been pretty awesome…sans the stupid accident prone douches with skateboards and the super crazy hunter. Oh well. Can't plan for everything. He was just sick of the cock blocks.

He couldn't help but smile as she pulled herself fully to his side. She was ok…thank fucking god. Honestly, his whole chest was on fire when that dick put his hands on her. Never again. Any dude that hurt her was gonna die. Period. End of story. No one was gonna mess with his girl again.

"Dean, you can let go of me now. We're here."

"Oh," he said, loosening his grip on her, which had apparently been too tight. "Sorry."

"No harm," Abby said.

"I'm glad you trusted me tonight," he said, leaning against the car. "You know, this coulda been the first time you've ever just done what I asked you to."

"There's a first time for everything," she chuckled.

"I think you deserve a prize for the trust breakthrough."

"Prize, huh," she smiled. God was her smile beautiful.

Dean walked around the driver side and opened the door. She raised her eyebrow, looking at him curiously.

"Hop in."

"Me," she laughed. "_No_…really? You've never let me drive."

"My sign of trust," he crookedly grin. "Just treat her right." He tossed her the keys.

* * *

Abby leaned back in the driver seat and fiddled with the radio. She turned to gauge Dean's reaction. She was shocked to find him smiling, his hands behind his head, totally relaxed.

"You're not gonna be mad if I turn on the radio," she asked.

"What's my rule," he grinned at her.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?"

"Yep. Rule applies for whoever drives. Go for it…as long as you pay attention to the road and get us back in one piece. It's your turn, babe."

She couldn't believe it herself. It was a very simple gesture to anyone else, but with _Dean? _Wow. Just wow.

"Thanks," she cracked a smile, choking up a little.

"Well, floor it Speed Racer."

She put the keys in the ignition and listened as the car roared to life.

"Listen to that. Isn't it awesome," Dean smirked with pride.

"Yeah. It's pretty great that she's still around."

Abby soon found that driving the Impala was like driving a small watercraft; it had the turn radius of an elephant. However, when it came to speed and acceleration, that car could kick any other car's ass.

Feeling playful, Abby switched the radio on to a station she knew Dean wouldn't like.

"What - is this _shit_?"

"You don't remember this song? Katy Perry from years ago?"

"No, I don't, thank fucking god. But whatever, you're the driver. I'll shutty."

_Wow. _It was actually working. Fact was, she didn't like the song much either. With one hand on the wheel, she turned the station to the local classic rock. They just introduced a Bad Company song. She sat back and left it on.

"Really," Dean asked, sitting forward a little bit. "You don't have to do that for me."

"One song for you and one for me, ok babe?"

Dean gave her that adorably cute grin of his, mouthing the words of the song. She was proud that they were getting their groove back. Although, she couldn't help but feel like a complete bitch. If only she had looked into Dean's mind that night at the house…if she wasn't afraid to see rejection. God, she was _stupid. _From the way he was looking at her, and the way she appeared in his mind, there was no way he was lookin' at anyone else.

Her thoughts snapped back to the road as Dean changed the song.

"Your turn," he said, changing the station.

She smiled and sang along to "Wild Horses" by The Sundays.

"Wild Horses, Couldn't drag me away…Wild, Wild Horses…"

Abby could feel Dean's eyes on her and the blush immediately came to her cheeks.

"What," she asked, glancing at him curiously as she kept driving.

"Do you know, in all the years we've been together, you've never once sang in front of me? I mean ever. Hell, didn't even know you could carry a tune."

That couldn't be possible, she thought, but as she went through her memory bank, she realized he was right. For some reasons he had always felt self-conscious about singing. The inner voice was closer to the soul, and now, she had bared it all in front of Dean, not even thinking of feeling judged. She did it without thought because she knew he wouldn't care.

"You're really good, you know that," he chuckled. "Wish I could sing like you."

"I've heard you sing before," she replied. "You're not bad at all."

For the first time in a long time, she felt free and immensely happy, as if some big weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now nothing was between her and Dean; they knew each other down to the very essence.

Abby didn't have to look down when Dean put his hand on her knee, gently rubbing his thumb in a circle. It was soothing and sweet; a small token gesture of adoration. But then his hand started to wander north of the knee. His hand, feather soft, skimmed her thigh. The whispers of flesh to flesh was replaced with the same beautiful kneading with his fingers. It was still full of love, but his touch was now filled with need as well.

_'If he doesn't stop doing that soon, we're done for,' _she said, trying to concentrate on the road.

"I love you."

His words were dripping with sweetness and truth. Dean _LOVED_ her. Her heart swelled with love and her eyes filled.

Abby quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road and set it in park.

"What's wrong," he smiled at her.

She couldn't hold back any longer.

"Back in the hotel room, when I was naked in front of you, you said you were waiting for trust. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," he chuckled.

Abby threw herself over the seat and straddle his lap. She pressed her lips to his starting off with tender pecks before slipping her tongue inside, tasting him. He grunted into her mouth. Her hands grasped his shoulders tightly as his stroked her lower back.

"Dean," she moaned, pulling back slightly.

"What," he asked, looking both concerned and annoyed by her stopping the action.

"I love you too."

He flashed her adorable smile before picking her up and laying her down in the backseat.

* * *

"Wes," she moaned as he kissed her neck hard. Her hands tugged on his hair, causing him to groan against her throat.

Lord, what was she doing?

"Wes, we can't. Please."

"No," he panted. "I'm not going to stop this time. Not this time, April."

"Please," she begged, but it was hard to keep serious as he sucked and licked her neck playfully. "Oh God, _yes_…I mean _no_."

With a growl, Wes pulled away.

"Fine," he hissed, pressing her fully up against the wall, his arms on either side of her, "But I'm not playing this game again."

She found herself afraid but oddly turned on at the same time. He wouldn't hurt her…would he? His eyes said no, but his extended canines said yes.

"Get away from my sister, you bloodsucking _sonofabitch_."


	7. Feels Like the First Time

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 03/12/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: First, thank you all for waiting so patiently! I apologize for the update delay. I went through the most hellatious week of work ever. On top of that, I was sick with the flu. It wasn't fun. So, here it is! Enjoy!**

Wes wickedly smiled up at him and put his hands in his pockets. Dylan didn't think, at first glance, the boy appeared intimidating. He was a bit taller than the vamp and more muscular to the untrained eye. It was only when you noticed the covert way he moved that he could see his true ability; to remain still before striking like a snake. It was like a human trying to tell the difference between a docile, harmless Milk or an elusive, deadly Coral snake, only there were no friendly rhymes to distinguish good vamps from bad ones.

"What are you going to do, _human_," he sneered. Dylan's blood was beginning to boil. "Besides, I wasn't hurting her."

"She clearly said stop." It was a simple but clear fact. When a woman said stop, you did. It was more than just simple courtesy. Going beyond that boundary, neglecting the woman's request, was simply assault. He would be damned to see it happen to his own sister.

"But, you see Dylan, I know something you don't know. Her mind didn't say stop," he tapped his own head and mockingly grinned.

"Wes, just, gah…I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore!"  
Both men curiously turned towards April, who was in obvious distress. She paced between them, clenching an unclenching her fists, apparently at odds with herself.

"Listen," she started, freezing in her place, "I -- I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry. I just got caught up in the moment." She sighed deeply, pausing to run a hand through her long dark hair before she moved on. "But, thank you for helping us."

Wait; hold the frickin' phone. _She kissed _him_ first? He helped them? What the fuck was going on?_"You just keep telling yourself we just got caught up in the moment. You can't honestly deny it's more than that," he smiled, gently taking her hand before placing a soft kiss on the back. To his own chagrin, April didn't jerk her hand away.

Dylan took matters into his own and grabbed a hold of April, pulling her protectively to him.

"I'm just gonna warn you one time, dickless" he aggressively pointed at the vampire. "You leave my sister alone! If I see you near her again…"

"Oh, a _threat?! _Look. At. You. Grown a pair since you've been hunting," Wes laughed. Dylan took a few deliberate steps forward before his sister abruptly yanked him back to where he started.

"Dyl, come on," she pleaded.

"And _you_," he said pointing at his trembling twin. "_You_ have a lot of explaining to do on your part, sis."

"Uh oh," Wes mocked. "Looks like you're in trouble, sweetheart."

"Don't _you_ talk to her," Dylan yelled before he jumped at him once again.

"_Dyl_!"

Wes quickly maneuvered out of the way, laughing as Dylan tried desperately to go after him.

"Dylan _stop_! You'll just end up hurting yourself," April jerked him back, his arms locked behind his back in what he could only describe as iron shackles; turned out to be his own vampire sister's hands.

"She's right you know. Humans shouldn't tangle with the likes of our kind," Wes smiled, straightening out his jacket.

"_She's_ not like _you_," Dylan screamed.

"Maybe…maybe not. Why don't you ask her?"

"That's enough, Wes! Just go," she ordered, almost on the verge of tears.

"Fair enough. I can't argue with a request from the charming April. Goodnight, my lady," he ceremoniously bowed before blurring off in the distance.

"Let go," Dylan shrugged out of his sister's grasp. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she sighed, trying to pull her emotions together.. "How about you? Are you proud of yourself?! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"ME?! _You_ were the one about two seconds away from becoming vamp food!"

"Vamps don't feed off vamps, moron," she hissed.

"So…you really did let him kiss you? _Seriously?_ I mean I knew he was something strange the first day you brought him around -- wait a minute -- he knows where we live?! You brought him here?!"

"Oh shut up! Listen, I can explain everything if you just give me a fucking minute, alright?!"

Dylan had seen April worked up before. Hell, she was a downright drama queen. It wasn't always her fault; much like their mother. They both wore their hearts on their sleeve and as much as they would like to appear strong, when it came to people they cared about, they'd collapse. That was just their fragile nature.

April was practically sobbing, her body slinking down the brick to the ground, her nails digging into her knees through the fashioned holes in her jeans. With a remorseful sigh, Dylan sank down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder.

He could feel the emotions coming off of her in waves; a recent, unwanted development in his psychic powers. She was radiating sadness, remorse, confusion but, most curious of them all, a sense of loss and longing.

"Ok, sis. I'm gonna shut up now. You talk. I'll listen," he said, rubbing her arm.

She weakly smiled up at him and started from the beginning.

* * *

Abby sat on Dean's lap, almost immediately switching their positions after they had gotten in the back. She was getting overheated and fast. Her lips met his, tasting him with her tongue. She couldn't help but moan when Dean bit down lightly on her lower lip, gently sucking it. His hands greedily roamed her body, finding the hem of her dress. He pushed it up past her thighs and slid his hands around to caress her rear.

"God," he growled, nibbling on her ear lobe. "I forgot what a nice ass you have."

"Thanks," Abby smiled, panting as she kissed his neck. "You're not so bad yourself."

She sat up higher and tugged on the bottom of his shirt. He smirked and lifted up slightly allowing Abby more access to slip the shirt over his head.

"Wow," she smiled, her eyes never moving from his sculpted chest. "You are in good shape…I mean, not that you weren't before but…_wow_."

"Thanks," he chuckled, bringing her mouth back down to his.

Her heart swelled as they kissed, lips sweetly tasting, their tongues caressing the other. It was adoring and passionate at the same time. Their bodies ground against one another, creating delightful friction and heat. Feverishly, she fumbled for his zipper as he pushed her dress up over her hips and slid her panties down to her knees.

A knock on the window startled them. Dean suddenly sat up, causing Abby to fall off his lap, hitting her head on the door as she fell down to the floor of the car.

Hurriedly, she slipped her discarded panties back up.

Abby shielded her eyes from the bright light shining in through the car windowpane.

"Can y'all come out here please," a man asked with a drawl.

"Fuck," Dean swore under his breath, getting out of the car first. "Is there a problem officer?"

"Do you know it's illegal to park here, sir?"

Dean turned to the right and then to the left. "I don't see a sign sayin' I couldn't," Dean smiled.

_'Christ, he's gonna get us in more trouble,' _Abby thought.

"Well, now," the officer said, looking down at Dean's license, "Mr. Navarro, it's illegal to 'park' with a woman in the state of Florida." He gestured to Abby who was finally getting out of the car and stood next to Dean.

"I'm his wife, officer," she smiled. "We were just trying to spice things up a little."

"Well, Mrs. Navarro, our state don't allow…"

She rolled her eyes and gazed deep into the officer's eyes and willed her power. There it was, sparking and brewing inside her…or what was left of it.

_'Fuck, I hope this works.'_

Abby touched her mind to his, probing his psyche for strength. Good, he was relatively weak. She implanted her requests into his head, only hoping he would follow her orders.

"There's nothing to see here," she said both outwardly and internally. "But you're not sure it's safe up here. You can tell the other officers there was a chemical spill. You want to keep both sides of this road blocked for a mile on each side of this spot. No officer or civilian is allowed closer. Soon, when an Impala with a couple comes out of the blockade, you'll let them pass with no memory of the event we are having right now. You will let them pass with out incident. Are we clear?"

"Uh…yeah," he stuttered, running back to his car. She smiled as he immediately grabbed the radio for backup regarding a hazardous spill and set up a blockade. The squad car burned rubber as he set off.

"Hey," Dean said, getting her attention by gently elbowing her in the side. "Why the fuck did you have him set up a blockade?"

"Well," she teased him with a kiss, pulling him to her by his shirt, " I didn't want to be interrupted again."

"You are one hell of a woman," Dean smirked and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, folding around him. His hand ran through her hair clumsily as they fumbled back towards the car. She really didn't know what was going on. All she knew was her lips were touching his again; that was all that mattered.

Instead of the soft, spongy and yielding back seat, she felt cold chill of metal.

Panting with desire, Abby forced herself to pull herself back and twist her head. Like she suspected, she wasn't in the car…she was _on_ the car.

Dean smiled down at her, bending down to peck her forehead.

"Is this alright," he asked, gently caressing her outer thighs.

_Alright? _Of course it was alright…fuck, it was her first fantasy about him! A dark, starry night. The car. His perfect body. _Ugh._

She answered with a growl and yanked him to her, pressing his body firmly against her own.

Her hand found his jeans, undoing the button and zipper in record time.

Dean leaned away from her, once again gathering the hem of her dress to her hips. He bent down to kiss her knees, his lips venturing slowly upward, teasing her inner thighs.

Fuck, he was going to kill her if he didn't get right to it soon.

"Dean, please," she panted.

"Aren't we impatient," he teased between kisses.

She huffed loudly.

Laughing, he gripped the edges of her panties. He slid them down to her feet with agonizing slowness.  
She sat up and pulled him close, her semi-nude body pressing against his own. Abby pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the woods. Her fingers teased him, a punishment for his own tender tormenting seduction. Her hands caressed him through his jeans, eliciting a deep gasp from his lovely mouth. Good. He deserved it. With a gracefully tug, his pants and boxers hit the ground.

"Come here," she purred, laying back on top of the car. Her legs draped around his body and she breathlessly sighed as his hardness rubbed against her heat.

Dean tugged her closer, his hands stroking her hips.

She couldn't help but gasp as he was at her entrance. He pushed in slightly, her body engulfing him. What she wasn't expecting was it actually kinda hurt; not as bad as her first time, but still…she must have been out of practice.

He pushed in a little more, only moving slightly. Dean could tell by the look on her face that she was in minor discomfort.

"It's ok," she whimpered.

"Really," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Really," she nodded with a smile. "Love you."

He flashed her that adorable smile and kissed her forehead. "Love you too," he whispered as he pushed into her once more, her body filling with him. It was her favorite part when there was nothing between them. The deep, intimate connection that just random screwing around couldn't quell. No, the moment that they truly became one was so tender and fulfilling

"Hey," his voice brought her back. "Why are you cryin'?"

Was she? She hadn't noticed until he kissed her cheek, the moisture spreading.

"Dean, just…let's not ever lose this again, ok," she said, tears falling from her eyes.

"Hey, babe, are you sure you're just not hurtin'? I mean, if you are that's all right, we can stop.."

"No! Don't stop," she gasped.

He smirked at her. "That's what I like to hear." Dean kissed her softly on the mouth and rested his forward on her own. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm just a little overwhelmed. A lot of emotions going on."

"All good though, right," he smiled.

"Yes," she kissed him lightly. "All good."

He kissed her briefly before he began to move. Dean was being very gentle, his actions slow and deliberate. Abby could tell he was holding back. After all, if he wanted her just a percentage of how she wanted him, he was in trouble. Her back arched as his hands roamed from her hips, caressing her ribs, snaking up her arms, until his hands captured her own.

Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her own. Abby's fingers lovingly traced the outside of his arms, feeling his muscles tensing with every minuscule touch.

They harmoniously moved as one, creating the beautiful friction they so desired.

Abby was feeling her body beginning to tighten, the delightful pressure building up. With a gasp, she scooted her body forward, crushing Dean to her by wrapping her legs more tightly around him. He moaned in response, his fingers tightening around her own. His lips took her own aggressively, taking her mouth as his own.

Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs as the tension built in her body, craving its own release. Dean's lips panted against her own as his pace quickened, his warm breathe teasing.

She lifted her hips higher to allow him better access. Something inside her burned and tautened, begging to be released. Their bodies moved as one, the pressure inside her building. Then, with one more move from him, it burst. Her own moans sounded far away, her fingers grasping for something keep her down to Earth. They found Dean and she wrapped herself around him, surrounding him fully.

He found his own release soon after. She ran her fingers through his hair as he uttered the most beautiful muffled sounds into her shoulder.

After a few shudders, Dean collapsed on top of her. His lips planted soft kisses on her neck and shoulders and once playfully nipping and her throat.

"Cute," she chuckled. "Real cute."

He lifted his head and there it was again, that adorable smile. In the moonlight, Dean looked beyond amazing. The sweat glistened on his body and off of his messy hair, making him seem almost magical.

She caressed his face and made a vow to herself to always remember that moment forever, which of course, for her, would be easy.

Unfortunately, it was time for them to leave. Dean gave her a kiss before backing up and separating them. He reached for her, lifting her off of the car and planting her down on the pavement. She watched him dress and heaved a sad sigh. Sure, it was inevitable that they had to wear clothes, but it also meant the moment they had was gone.

_'No,' _she thought. _'It doesn't have to end. We have each other now. Forever….God I am such a sap.'_

Before she had a chance to get dressed herself, Dean was there, straightening out her outfit and motioning for her to step into her panties. He kissed each foot before helping her with her shoes. Dean was being so…so _tender_ with her, a side he rarely had ever showed to a woman before herself.

He stood up in front of her and pulled her close.

"That was awesome," he smiled.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've got an idea," he announced, leading her to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a seat.

He closed the door behind her and raced around to the driver seat. Dean started the car and head towards the East instead of the West.

"Um, you're idea," Abby probed, confused as to where he was heading.

"How 'bout, now that you're not crazy vampy, why don't we just take a couple more days in Florida? Just me and you…sand, surf, sun," he glanced over at her and chuckled. "Maybe not sun. I'll call Sam and ask him to watch Jamie for another few days and then we'll head home."

"I don't know," she answered, staring out the window. "I miss the kids."

"I know," he reached for her hand. "But, I'm dyin' for some alone time like we just had. I've been nursing ya back to health for a week. Can't I just have you…like you? Plus, I did promise you a vaca way back when."

She looked back at him with skeptism.

"Come on, just a couple days. You still own that house on the beach, don't you, Ab?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well?"

"Only if it's a couple days," she smiled.

With that, Dean pulled up to the police blockade. The officer they had run into removed the physical barricade, mystifying the other officers.

"Thanks Officer Dillweed," Dean saluted as he yelled out the window before zipping off.

"You couldn't help yourself, could you," she said, putting her face in her hand, her body trembling with laughter.

"Nope."

He pressed down hard on the accelerator, gunning the car towards the coast.

* * *

Dylan sat on the grass outside, having heard all of April's story. She had gone inside to retire for the night, exhausted from the emotional purging.

He hit his head lightly against the side of the house as he tried to digest April's story of love and loss.

Jesse; the vampire who had shown her tenderness, only the desert her.

Wes; the shrewd vampire with a clear hidden agenda.

They had both hurt her in her mind; literally. The vampires had invaded her thoughts in sleep, giving her a serious mindfuck.

To be honest, he didn't trust either of 'em.

The vibration in his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. He looked down at the screen; Becky.

"Hey," he smiled immediately.

"Hey, babe," she squeaked. "Are you back yet?"

"Yeah. We just got back."

"How's your Mom? Did your Dad find her?"

"Yeah, she's good. They'll be coming home soon," he said. Dylan had told Becky his mom had run off in an angry fit.

"Good! So, when are YOU coming to see me," she giggled.

"Soon. Very soon."

"Like…tonight?"

"Keep your window unlocked," he whispered. "I'll sneak in."

"Will do. I love you, Dyl."

"Love you too."

As he snapped the phone shut, he sensed a presence nearby. Instantly he was on his feet, searching the perimeter.

"For a human, your vamp side is pretty powerful."

"Show yourself," he ordered.

Wes stepped out from the shadows, his hands in his pockets.

"Honestly, your psychic senses are rather impressive."

"I told you to --"

"Yes, yes I know," he kicked pebbles, "Stay away from MY SISTER!"

Dylan took a step towards him, fists clenched.

"Easy, partner," he mocked. "I came here to ask something of you."

"Me?"

"I don't want your sister involved. I've grown -- protective of her."

"I've got that covered," Dylan sneered.

"I need your help."

"For what?"

"To keep your sister safe."


	8. Distant Early Warning

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 03/12/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is long and includes many different character views that are broken up by the gray lines. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I am keeping her well protected. You, go away. There, good and safe," Dylan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wes, cracked his neck, his hands visibly clenching in his pockets.

"Look, you apparently don't like me, and I'm not fond of you, but I'm talking about your _sister_. I don't want to bring any of my failings down on her."

"I don't get what you mean," Dylan cocked his head to the side.

"I want to bring Jesse back to her." Wes placed on a stoic facade.

"Um…why?" Dylan tried to read Wes as to what his intention was. He couldn't see why the dude who had been willingly macking with his sister earlier would want her to hook up with someone else.

"It'll keep her safe. I'll explain on the way," Wes said, heading towards his car parked across the street. He twisted to look back over his shoulder at Dylan. "Are you coming?"

"Do you think I'm that stupid? To willingly go with the vampire I just threatened earlier? Ha," he laughed, standing his ground. "I don't fucking think so."

"Even if it meant your sister was in danger?"

"If you're gone --"

"Believe me_, I'm _not your problem," Wes said, his eyes deadly serious.

"What do you mean by that?"

"If I tell you, I'd have to kill you…not that I'd mind quieting your infernal yapping, but I'm not sure April would be too happy with that. And if I didn't silence you, they surely would."

Dylan planted himself on the ground, his hands clenched tight. Wes zoomed across the yard, standing only a foot in front of him.

"Listen, _boy_," Wes started, his mouth tense. "I'm not fucking around anymore. I don't want April to have any part of this. This is for _her _protection now. It's for the safeguard of all around you."

_'Becky.'  
_  
"Why do you want me, Wes? I'm not strong like Mom or April."

Wes tapped his forehead.

"Your _powers. _We might have to face some powerful beings, some that even I can not easily best. Your mindfucking abilities might come in handy."

"For you, right? Stealing them? You're a mimic from April tells me," he said.

"I promise I won't steal them from you," he chuckled, putting a hand over his heart. "Scouts honor."

Sure,_ that_ was believable.

"Fine. I'm calling Sam on the way to make sure someone knows where I'm at. You won't be able to get rid of me."

"Very well. Now, get in the car so we can go. The sooner we leave, the faster we get him back here."

* * *

Dean woke up, rolling over to wrap his arms around her only to find the bed empty and cold.

Still in the fog of sleep, he shot out of bed and rush towards the bedroom door. He stepped out into the living room, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, when he noticed a familiar breeze. His mind instantly went back to an earlier time, when he had woken up the same way, only to find Abby on the veranda. Her head had been tilted back, her arm in the sunlight, her skin peeling away.

His heart jumped in his chest with slight panic at the flashback.

"Good morning," she cheerily greeted.

He focused on her form in the doorway to the porch. She was in her white satin nightie, leaning against the door frame. Abby blew him a kiss before taking a sip of her coffee. She motioned towards the steamy pot on the counter, indicating that he should grab a cup.

"Mornin'. You weren't in bed when I got up," he started as he poured himself a cup. The image of her tear stained face flashed through his mind again.

"Oh," she sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. I -- I didn't think about the….connotations. I got up to watch the dolphins."

"You watch football," he kissed her cheek, wrapping his free arm around her. He rested his chin on top of her head.

"No. REAL dolphins off shore. They were hanging around, talking to each other. I didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful."

"I was having a good dream," he sighed happily. "Plus after last night, I needed some sleep. You wore me out. Ah, this is awesome, you know that? Just me and you. You're gonna keep this place so we can run off here when I'm good and retired, right? We'll just hang out."

She turned to face him, her eyebrow raised.

"You want to spend your 'Golden Years' in _Florida_?"

"Why not? It would be nice and quiet here. It's secluded. Plus, any place where it doesn't look suspicious for you to walk around mostly naked all day is a good place."

"You know, you're going to look like a skanky old man by that point," she laughed. "A sixty year old going out with a seventeen year old?"

"Well," he said, pulling her to him so he could whisper in her ear. "We know who really is the skanky old person going out with someone more than half her age."

She playfully hit his arm, reminding him to leave her age out of it. He had to admit, for a girl over 300 years old, Abby still had a kick ass bod. Screw the technical age difference.

They talked more about the future. Abby wasn't sure about moving far away from the kids if just the two of them moved to Florida. Dean reassured her she'd be fine and, eventually, they'd have their own lives to live anyway; college, real jobs, spouses, kids, etc. Well, except for April.

"What do you mean by that," Abby looked at him, confused by his answer.

"I don't think I can let her go," he admitted to her, a slight blush of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. "It's just…she's my little girl. Every time she calls me daddy I still see that little six year old begging me to carry her on my shoulders. Christ, I've turned into such a pussy."

Abby gave him a good hard squeeze.

"That's very sweet, Dean. She'll always be your little girl though, you know that. But it's inevitable that one day you'll have to walk her down the aisle," she kissed his cheek.

"Maybe she'll just go elope," he joked.

No, part of him deep down wanted to be there when his little girl was getting married. God, he couldn't think about that. It was inevitable, but it was bound to break his heart.

"Hey," Abby whispered. "I'm sorry about how you woke up this morning. I didn't think about that…day."

"Not your fault, babe," Dean smiled down at her.

"Well, it was back then."

"No, no," he lifted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Let's not go back there. It was nobody's fault ok. Maybe -- I don't know, maybe it was meant to happen."

She looked at him like he grew another head.

"Well, if you hadn't done that, we wouldn't have had that moment later that night. I don't know. Maybe there is something to that fate crap."

"Dean, come on--you know for a fact there is something to that fate _crap_! If it wasn't for that, none of us would be here. But, I see what you're getting at. You guys probably would have left that day and I -- I probably just would have tried it later with no one to stop me."

"I'm glad I was here to stop you," he put down his coffee and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "God I was so mad at you."

"Same here," she kissed his bare chest. "You can be quite infuriating."

"Yeah, well, you're no picnic either," he chuckled.

Then he just held her, rubbing thin silk over her back. Dean laid his head against the top of hers, taking in her scent. She smelled sweet, like sugar but mixed with something with a kick, like cinnamon. It actually reminded him of a candy from his childhood; an Atomic Fireball. Yep, that made perfect sense.

"Dean," she whispered softly against his skin, "I have an idea."

"That always makes me nervous," he smirked. "What's on your mind?"

"What if," she stepped back from him, his hands clasped in her own. "What if, we replace that memory with a good one, right here, right now."

"What," he asked, intrigued.

She slid her hands away, his own dropping to his side. With a sly grin, she closed the drapes, skewing the view to the porch. The fabric flowed in the windy ocean breeze.

Abby stood in front of him and slid each strap of her nightie off her shoulders. The strappy dress hit the floor with a whoosh of fabric. She stepped out of her nightgown in all her completely nude glory. She beckoned for him with her finger. Of course, he abided. Dean strolled over, picking her up and kissing her with passion. She in turn, wound her legs tightly around his body, grinding her hips into his.

He moaned as he went to set her down on the kitchen table, only to find newspapers and other useless clutter strewn about.

_'Fuck it.'_

With one swipe, he knocked all the items to the floor with a thunderous crash.

"Oops," he chuckled, panting against her lips. He laid her down fully on the tabletop. "There wasn't anything priceless there, was there?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter," she laughed and pulled his mouth down on hers.

* * *

"Yeah, Sam, I'll be back in a day or two. Just -- just don't tell April where I'm at, alright?"

Sam reluctantly assured him that he would relay the info to his niece.

"Just be careful, Dyl. Call if you need me or your dad. He'll come home if you want him to."

"I'll be fine," he said, glancing across the car at the driver. Dylan was keeping his thoughts closely guarded, unsure of what psychic abilities Wes was currently using. "I'll talk to you later." He snapped the phone shut before Sam could respond.

He only hoped Sam did keep his damn mouth shut.

"So, what is this about," he asked, glancing over at the vampire currently behind the wheel.

"I told you, if I told you--"

"Yeah, yeah, you'd have to kill me...yeah I know," Dylan scoffed. "So, you're serious about bringing Jesse back here?"

He nodded, just repeating that April would need extra protection and explained it would be better for her if he was gone. Dylan couldn't agree more.

"So, where exactly are we going," he asked. Wes told him Ohio. Of course, if I were a vampire hiding from something I'd go to Ohio, he thought sarcastically.

"April said you and Jesse have known each other for a long time."

"Yes," he answered.

"Well, how did you meet him?"

Wes' hands gripped the steering wheel and he sped the car up.

"Look, you don't have to--"

"We started out as friends in the 1800s. We've known each other since we were kids. Lamia families tend to stick together for protection. He was my best companion as a boy but then --"

"What?"

"The War changed everything. We fought on the same side but -- things happen. War is hell as they say," he sighed, keeping a stoic composure as he continued. "Jesse and I had each other's backs through the fightin' and then…and then I did something that he could never forgive me for."

What horrible thing could he have done that a best friend couldn't forgive? With that question in his head, Wesley turned towards him, his eyes cold and hard. Dylan knew he was about to get an answer to the inquiry in his head.

"I killed his sister."

* * *

April sat in her room, dialing her brother's cell phone. Fuck, he wasn't picking up. Earlier, when she had asked Sam if he knew where Dylan was, he had shrugged. Sam was such a bad liar.

"I wonder if he went to Becky's," she mused aloud.

The TV sounded from downstairs, giving her the clear signal that Sammy was still around and guarding the home front. Fabulous.

Being as quiet as possible, she locked her door and headed for the window. She prayed Sam didn't hear the slight creaking it made as she slid it open. April gazed down at the grass two-stories below. Seemed farther away than it really was. She placed herself on the window ledge and pushed off, gracefully and soundlessly landing on the ground like a panther.

"Cool," she whispered.

She crouched and listened for sounds from the other side of the house where her aunt and uncle were currently residing. All she could make out was the sounds of a sitcom. Jamie was upstairs breathing softly, fast asleep.

Knowing she was in the clear, April set out towards Becky's home in search of her brother.

* * *

Sam sat on the couch, his arm around his wife. Poor Ruby. She wasn't feeling well again. He was really worried about her. There was no reason why a person should be as sick as she was. Hell, she could barely hold any food down at all.

He kissed the top of her head, feeling like a prick for leaving her in that condition when he was out with Dean and the crew.

"Sam," a voice called from the stairs.

"Hey Jamie, what's wrong," he asked.

"Can I come sit with you for a minute," his nephew said, looking particularly scared.

"Sure," he said, making room for him on the couch without waking Ruby up. She needed her rest.

He made a mental note to take her to the doctors if she was still feeling bad the next day.

"What's wrong, Jamie?"

Jamie glanced back up towards the stairs and started to shake his head.

"I'm not supposed to say," he whispered.

"What's going on," Sam urgently asked. Something was not right.

"The man in my room told me not to tell you."

* * *

The abode in front of her was dark and still. She listened for the signs of life. Two soft heartbeats and breathes and the sound of shuffling. Someone was still awake. Soft humming drifted through an open window. Sounded like Becky was still awake.

With a sly smile, April quickly climbed the lattice against the house up to Becky's open window.

She pulled herself up by both hands, but before she could even get in the room, a pair of lips were on her own.

April froze.

The lips were soft, warm and wanting. They stopped when they realized they were kissing a statue.

"Dylan," she questioned in the dark room.

"Uh…no," April whispered.

That was when she noticed Becky was completely naked.

"Oh geez," April said, shielding her eyes. "Yeah, I'm not my brother."

She could hear Becky hurriedly getting dress and could literally feel the heat coming off her embarrassed body. Embarrassed was putting it lightly; that girl was completely, fucking mortified. Dylan's girlfriend had just practically made out with her. As her Dad would say, "Dear Penthouse…"

"You can open your eyes now, April," her voice softly announced.

"Um…ok," she answered, her voice just as unsteady. "Listen, I was just came over to see if Dylan was here…but apparently not."

"Yeah, about that--," Becky started, her eyes hidden by her disheveled brown hair.

"No, no, let's not…talk about that," April smirked, her eyes to the floor. "It's alright. It's an honest mistake, right?" She sat on the windowsill and stretched. "Well, I guess if he's not here-"

April turned back to climb down the lattice. There was no way she was gonna be able to explain surviving a two-story fall onto her ankles with Beck around.

"Wait."

April popped her head back in the window.

"I was waiting for Dylan."

"Yeah…I kinda figured that out."

She had known that Dylan had had his first time with Becky not too long before. He had come home that night, right as rain. The worst part of being a twin; having to practically see what went down behind the closed doors in his mind. The moaning. The groping. The passion. The L-O-V-E. _Gross._ Curiously though, there was one part of his mind he kept tightly shielded around her. Odd. Very odd. Well, if it had anything else to do with his sex life with _Lil' Miss_ _Thang_, she'd keep out, that's for sure. Besides, she now knew Becky's kissing skills first hand, she chuckled.

_'Oh boy, how do you tell your brother that his girlfriend made out with his own sister,' _she thought, her mind almost going into hysterics at the thought.

"April, if he's not here and he's not with you, then, where the fuck is he," she asked, hands on her hips.

_'Wow, she swore. Who knew?'_

"Don't know," April shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine. I'll tell him to call you."

A hand touched her own and stopped her descent.

"Are you going to look for him," she asked, her eyes serious.

"Maybe."

"That means yes, and if you're going, I'm going with you."

* * *

"We're going home tomorrow, right," she asked with a raised eyebrow for emphasis.

"Whatever you wanna do," he smiled, kissing her stomach.

Her hips instinctively dug into the sand at his touch. Abby groaned and stopped reading her book, hitting him in the head with the paperback.

"What was that for," he smirked, playing with the top edge of her bikini bottoms.

"I'm honestly trying to read here and I can't with you torturing me like that," Abby smiled.

"Is this so bad," he continued his tortuous pursuit with his lips.

"Uh," she moaned. "For one thing, we're on a beach. Not so private."

"One, you've been done bare-ass naked on top of a car on the side of the road, so don't pretend like you're a fucking prude," he said, putting a finger over her lips before she could rebut. "Two, we've already conquered every horizontal surface, and a few vertical surfaces in the house since we've been here. Weren't you the one who told the cop that you wanted to spice it up?"

"I think it's pretty spicy already," she laughed as he slid on top of her.

He kissed her softly, his own laughs getting in the way of their make out session.

_'This is nice,' _she thought. Abby enjoyed their playfulness. Honestly, his thought about their 'Golden Years' sounded like a good plan after all.

They smooched a little more before he rolled off of her. Dean laid on their blanket, catching some rays. Abby tucked her head in the crook of his arm and let the sounds of the seabirds and the crashing waves guide her to sleep. A nap could be a good thing, she thought. Rest up for round…whatever it was later.

Sleep should have been soothing. Instead, visions flashed in front of her eyes. Her family. Mother. Father. Brother. They were staring her down with sad eyes; blaming eyes. But, she knew from their brief reunion before that they didn't' blame her for their deaths. They parted like the Red Sea and a tombstone stood off in the distance. Apparently, her family had been mourning for _someone?_

The closer she ran to it, the farther the tombstone faded back out of reach. She could never get close enough to read the name.

"It's your fault," James screamed at her, pointing at the tombstone. "You could have stopped it!"

"Stopped what," she cried.

Before she could answer, she felt the sharp edge of steel in her body. Her vision was hazy as she stared up at her family and one pair of unfamiliar eyes. Whoever it was, silhouetted by light, was holding the blade.

"Nighty, night, sweet Abigail," the voice whispered.

With that, Abby closed her eyes.

"Babe! Babe, WAKE UP!!"

She opened her eyes and mind to find her body shaking in her husband's arms.

"Sweetheart, are you ok," Dean asked, his eyes full of worry. She couldn't answer. His arms tightened around her, keeping her safe.


	9. Down The Road

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/02/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Abby rested her head against the tempered window, staring off into the distance.

_'Great…just fucking great,' _Dean's thoughts simmered, trying to keep his attention on the road.

Ever since her nightmare on the beach, she'd been quiet. She'd barely uttered more than a few words at a time. He had suggested they leave early, helping her pack her suitcase. She was clearly shaken by whatever it was she saw, but she wouldn't budge. He didn't want to push. Well, that wasn't really true. He _didn't _want to, but he _had _to for both of their sanities.

"Abby," he started, trying to keep his voice soft. "You gonna talk about this with me or what?"

She just shrugged, her eyes still focused off at some unknown object.

"Damn it, babe," Dean countered, his cool starting to wear off. "No, we're not gonna start this crap again."

"What crap," she finally turned toward him.

"This secretive shit," he spat. "No, this is what got us in trouble; what got Sam and I in trouble. We're not gonna do this anymore! So, spit out already. I _know_ it's bothering you."

"I-I can't."

Dean slammed on the brakes, parking the car in the road and turned the yield lights on.

"Oh you better believe you're gonna tell me. Right. Now," he ordered, twisting to face her.

Her eyes were rimmed in purple from her secretive crying before they left. She had locked herself in the bathroom for some 'alone time.' That was code for her to sob over whatever. Dean had tried to give her privacy, but it hadn't been long before he had leaned his head up against the door to listen in. That's when she stopped the water works. He knew she heard the door creak ever so slightly from his weight.

And now she was completely clamming up and he knew why…because whatever she saw in her dream not only hurt her, but would hurt him. In true Winchester fashion, that came with the name, she would rather burden herself.

"Damn it, Abby! Just - just fucking tell me, alright? It's better for both of us to know if something is bothering you. I -- I can't help you if you're fighting me off. I want to help you. Don't keep pushing me back."

Abby sighed and looked into his eyes, her dark irises never looking so deep and endless. She took his hand in hers, tracing the lines, and started to tell her story. Her dream had obviously terrified her to the point of panic. There were two things she was afraid of; first, that she had truly done something to make her brother hate her. The other, was that there was something that hadn't happened yet that she could have stopped.

Dean was more worried about the part where she was stabbed by an unknown assailant. She didn't seem to care. Abby reminded him that she died in her dreams all the time. That wasn't all that comforting.

"I just couldn't stand if James hated me for something," she whispered.

"Hey," he said, his thumb caressing her cheek. "He was your older brother and he loved you. He died for you. There ain't no way he hates you."

"Do you think he knew?"

"About," Dean asked with curiosity.

"The whole Lucifer thing? I mean--it still seems weird to me that he asked _you_ to take care of me."

"I don't know, Ab. But, I'm glad he wanted me to stick around," he smiled. In fact, he wanted to thank James everyday he woke up next to his wife. It was only because of his request that the pair had gotten closer.

"I feel better," she inhaled and exhaled a cleansing breathe.

"See? I told ya you would, you stubborn broad," he joked. Dean smiled and leaned over to give her a kiss before taking the car back on the road towards home.

* * *

Dylan felt the bile rise into his throat. Here the vampire was, confessing his sins about murdering his best friend's sister. Part of him wondered if it was just his attempt at a warning for his own. Either way, his fists clenched.

"Our families were friends. Lamia families usually live close to one another for companionship and protection. Both of our houses practiced a non-human blood policy, a pact having been made by our fore fathers."

"So, you were raised like my mother," Dylan asked, surprised that someone had strayed so far from their upbringing.

"Yes. Your mother's family was in the New World at the same time as my family. Many of those who moved here sought refuge from the old ways. After all, we'd been living in the company of humans for years and many found them to be…intelligent creatures. They weren't necessarily just for the feast. They had certain…perks, thus how half-breeds like _you_ were created."

He knew he was meant to take offense. After all, something that had intermingled its way into vampire culture seemed like he was meant to feel like vermin; a pest that was to be tolerated, much like a rodent. Just part of the scenery. If you ignored it, it would go away.

Wes went on to talk about his past. Jesse and himself grew up like normal boys, even going to the 'normal' human school without incident. Apparently, before the war, Jesse's family had such a great deal of respect for humans, they had adopted a human girl named Jenny. Jenny had been fair haired and dark eyed and beautiful. She was only a few years younger than they were, and by the time Wes was twenty, he had it bad for the teenage young woman. Jesse and his family had been thrilled that Wes might marry her and officially be a part of their family.

"It had never occurred to me, the dangers of living with her. I would never be able to hurt her."

"I thought you said you killed her."

When the war between the states began, they enlisted to help their human brothers. Plus, they had their own war to deal with; vampires would take advantage of any rifts between humans. The spoils of war were great for their kind. There was much to be fought for.

"It was so fast and sudden. We were off fighting, not too far from our ancestral home, when I heard her voice. It was so light and angelic…and I hadn't heard it in months. I thought -- I thought I was dying or hallucinating. But, no, there she was. My Jenny was running towards me, yelling something about she had to warn me. I turned just in time to see her fall from a stray bullet. Without thinking, I blurred to her side, dragging her off into a path in the nearby woods. Jesse wasn't far behind. The bullet had lodged into her stomach, the acids already spewing into her body. She had little time to live. So…I bit her."

Dylan didn't quite understand.

"I bit her in order to save her life. Jesse was trying to tear me off, but I couldn't stop. He was yelling that it was enough but -- well, it apparently to me, wasn't. By the time I was done, her heart was barely beating and it would eventually stop. Frantically, I cut my wrist and put my blood in her mouth, hoping it would seep down and start the change. Only, nothing happened."

He noticed the controlled emotion in Wes' voice. Truly, the vampire to his left was still grieving over his lost love, but the years had taken a more refined turn. He was in control of himself.

"As we sat next to her, her breathing becoming labored, a strange little girl appeared out of the woods. She was dressed in a petticoat skipping around, which was odd around a battlefield, for who would let their child run toward such danger? I'll never forget her."

Wes inhaled sharply, his fingers clamping down hard on the steering wheel.

"She bounced towards us, giggling and bent to whisper in my ear. 'What a shame,' she whispered to me, laughing at Jenny. Then her eyes turned white. Opaque white, cloudy in consistency like the sky during a hurricane. Then she said her purpose: I can bring her back."

"Her back?"

"From the brink of death," he continued. "She said she could help us for a favor in return; she wanted our service. Basically, she wanted to call us from time-to-time to do her bidding. To bring back my Jenny, I would have done anything. So, I agreed. She had turned to Jesse, who offered the same deal, and he agreed only with the stipulation that no one he loved would get hurt. The young girl complied."

Wes soldiered on, going into more detail of Jenny's pale beauty as her body started to slip away in his arms before she was torn from his own by Jesse. He watched his best friend cradle his dying sister. Then, all at once, everything changed. The little girl kissed each of them on the mouth before kissing Jenny. That's when his eyes focused from grief into an odd realization. Jenny's pale skin remained but her golden hair lightened up into sunshine mixed with moonbeams. Her chest heaved violently and she sat up, her dark eyes looking like obsidian in comparison to her porcelain-doll pallor. He was so happy, even Jesse clung to her with an air of pure excitement. That was until they saw her teeth extend.

"Jenny," Jesse flipped her around, grabbing her face between his hands.

"Hello brother," she said awkwardly her tongue pressing against her new adjustable teeth.

"Oh God…what have you done," his friend turned towards the little girl, pirouetting around the glen.

"I said I could bring her back, silly, but I didn't say as what," she laughed. "Besides_, he _already started to process. It was the only way she could be brought back."

Dylan realized why Wes regretted what he had done. In his madness, while his love died in front of him, he did the only thing he could think of to save her and forgot the immortal curse that went along with it. He could feel the immense sadness rolling off his companion in waves. It was full of regret and self-loathing, so much so, that Dylan pulled his mental shield up around himself. He couldn't deal with that amount of pain.

"What happened to her," he found himself asking involuntarily.

"You don't wanna know," he said so matter-of-factly that it made Dylan's skin crawl. He could only imagine her fate. Did she run off? Did someone kill her after the change? But, curiosity killed the cat…and he didn't want to tempt the closest vampire. So, he didn't push.

"So, now I know, but what does this have to do with my sister?"

"I can't very well say, but trust me, it's connected to that. I can leave breadcrumbs, but I can't lead you through the forest…you know or I'd have to--"

"I got it," he said. "But you're sure my sister is in danger?"

"Most certainly. Jesse is weak by vampire standards, but he's strong willed and fiercely loyal. Couple that with your mental powers and your sister's and I have no doubt that you will succeed at keeping her safe. I'll make sure she is in no danger from my end."

He didn't want to know what that entailed. Dylan just concentrated on the dark road ahead of them as they crossed the state line into Ohio.

* * *

"He's alright…right," the frightened brunette asked in the passenger seat.

"I'm sure he's fine," April lied. She honestly had no clue what her brother was up to. All she knew was her twin sense was tingling. Something was going on.

Becky sat tense in the seat beside her as they drove in the anxious girl's car. Her fingers were playing with the hem of her jacket. She was clearly nervous.

_'I can't bring her with to look for him. Besides, he probably just ran out to get condoms for his little escapade they had apparently been planning,' _she thought with a sly smile. Gross.

No, he was probably fine. It would be better to just take her back to their house and wait there with her. Plus, it would give her a chance to get to know the girl a little better, with out her brother around. Then she could figure out what the chick was all about.

"Why are we pulling into your house," Becky asked as if there was something April was keeping from her.

"Well, we can't just run off and grab him. Look," she said, pivoting towards her as she put the car in park. "he'd want us to wait for him. I mean, if I thought that he was in trouble, don't you think I'd be after him?"

She nodded slightly, but was still obviously in a huff. Was she still all hot and bothered, she laughed to herself.

April parked the car and gestured for her to follow.

_'Crap I shoulda called first. Who knows what weird shit is goin' on at home,' _she thought as they plodded up the wooden front stairs.

April knocked on the front door and announced their arrival before they started in.

"Uncle Sammy, I'm here."

Sam appeared from around the corner in the living room, as he greeted his niece and Becky.

"Nice to see you again, Becky. Sorry, we weren't expecting anyone around. I'll go make some popcorn and get some sodas. April, will you come with me to help?"

"Help with popcorn," she asked.

"Yes," he answered with authority. "If you'd please." He smiled and turned back towards Becky. "I'm sorry, Ruby isn't feeling well and she's in the living room with Jaime on the couch. Feel free to flip the channels and find something you want to watch. Are you staying the night?"

"Well, I don't know."

"They have plenty of space here if you need to stay. Just call your folks to let them know you're here, alright?"

"Sure, and thanks," she smiled before moving into the front room.

April cautiously followed her uncle into the kitchen, already knowing she was in for a verbal smack down.

"First, you left without telling me…then you show up with her," he pointed towards the other room. Sam placed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and set the timer. "Look, April, I have to watch you, take care of Ruby, and now Jamie-"

"Whoa, back up. Watch me? Did Mom and Dad tell you to do it?"

"Yes," he lied.

Then she inquired about Jamie. Sam's face rapidly changed, his brows furrowed, his eyes darkening. Whatever was going on wasn't good. He leaned closer to her enough so he could speak in a whisper.

"April, did he ever tell you about seeing people?"

"Seeing people," she pondered aloud.

"Yeah, at night…in his room."

She looked at him cockeyed.

"Are you saying he's going Haley Joel on us?"

"I don't know, April."

The microwave beeped as the kernels stopped popping. Sam told April to go into the living room with the popcorn while he grabbed some sodas from the basement.

She nodded, taking the buttery goodness out to her "Most Likely to be Future-Sister-In-Law." Becky was seated on the floor next to Jamie, who was showing her how to play a new annoying card game he got. It was one of those Yugi-somethings. April didn't know how that girl could feign enthusiasm so well.

To her shock though, their conversation wasn't on the game, but whatever had happened before they arrived.

"What scared you buddy," Becky consoled, ruffling his hair.

_'Don't say--'_

"The man in my room. He walks around at night and scares me. He doesn't like it here."

_'Drat.'_

Becky, however, didn't seemed phased; mostly intrigued by the talk.

"Maybe we should change the subject," April interrupted. "Who's up for a movie?"

"He stays in my closet during the day…I don't know why," Jamie rambled on, shuffling his cards. "He talks to me."

"What does he say," Becky asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"Where's his wife…what happened to his family…and he gets angry sometimes…and that's when I get scared. Most of the time though, he goes away when the other guy shows up."

"What other guy," April found herself asking.

"Zachariah," he smiled. "I call him Zac for short."

April dropped the bag of popcorn and caught Sam as he reached the top basement stair.

"Sam, we have to call Cas. _Now_."


	10. Night Flight

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/02/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the delayed update! I was sick once again. Good times. Anyway, enjoy the update!_**

_Sam nervously paced on the creaking front porch while April tended to the sleeping guests in the house._

Ruby remained on the couch, groaning in discomfort in an a constant struggle between sleep and consciousness. She decided to remain awake for the time being, sitting upright with the afghan Abby had knitted tightly wrapped around her shivering form. Part of him felt guilty for leaving her in there with out him. Damn, he had missed everything about her when the family had left on their quest for Abby while she stayed behind to care for the youngest member of the family. And, she was happy to do so. Ruby doted on the boy as if he was her own. Any other kid would be envious of having such caring and indulging relatives.

"I'm not feeling too well," she had said the morning that they had left, after appearing from the bathroom, still leaning against the doorframe.

Sam had leaned down and kissed her sweaty forehead, grabbing her face between his hands.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay," he whispered.

She had replied that she'd be fine. Yet, almost two weeks later, she was still feeling like shit.

Doctor. Tomorrow. That was the end of that. God forbid if something was really, really wrong with her -- he would never forgive himself for leaving her behind when he could have gotten her help.

Sam regained focus as Cas' car pulled into the driveway. He nodded as he got out of the car and headed up the walkway.

"How are you doing, Sam," he asked, offering his hand.

Sam took it and pulled him close into a man hug.

Three pats later, they pulled away.

"How's Jamie," his friend asked with furrowed brows.

"Asleep for now. Listen, Cas, we need to be quiet. April brought Becky with her. She's asleep in April's room upstairs. Don't ask," he smirked.

"Hi Uncle Cas," a voice greeted from behind them.

Sam twisted to see April cautiously opening the screen door, her eyes begging permission to come onto the porch. He smiled and nudged her forward. April gave Cas a warm hug.

"How are you doing, sweetheart," he smiled and kissed her cheek.

She shrugged and turned to go back in the house. Before Sam and their guest could enter, she turned around to shush them, gesturing up the stairs and towards the family room.

"Becky is upstairs and Jamie finally fell asleep next to Ruby," April whispered.

Sam rounded the corned to see Jamie resting comfortably, snuggled up next to Ruby on the couch. She was looking down at him maternally, her hands running through his hair. She looked at peace. He smiled as she raised her gaze up to meet his.

"So, what's going on with Jamie," Cas asked, following April to the kitchen. Sam leaned against the countertop, placing his arms across his chest.

Sam let his niece explain her brother's comments to Cas, who listened with an increasing ferocity. There was something behind his eyes that was turning.

"You said Zachariah," he said to himself.

"Yeah," April shrugged, "So?"

"Cas," Sam started. "How -- I mean could he be referring to the real Zachariah? How -- how could that be possible?"

"Well," he said, hopping up to take a seat on the counter. "We did take him to get after he was born. Conceivably that could have something to do with it. Perhaps he is touched."

"By an angel," April scoffed. "Yeah, ok."

Cas explained that there were whispers when he was a member of the angels that some people who were touched at a young age. Many of those turned out to be prophets or were able to communicate with other worldly beings. Jamie seemed to fit the mold.

"So, is he really talking to spirits," Sam asked, his brows furrowed in concern. He could feel April's eyes on him. Much like her mother, she had a way of looking at someone that could chill them to the core.

"April," he said with out looking at her, "Keep an eye on your aunt and brother."

"Why?"

"Because, Cas and I are going to take a walk around the house, then we're heading out. And don't argue with me," he said before she could even start to retort. "There are three people here who need you to look out for them, alright? I trust you'll do the right thing."

His niece nodded to him and headed out to the living room.

"Where's the boy's room," Cas questioned, sliding off of the counter.

Sam lead him up the stairs, reminding him of the sleeping Becky. The pair headed up the wooden staircase and upon taking a left, started towards the boy's room. At the end of the hallway was a trio of doors; Jamie's room was the one on the left.

Cautiously, he opened the door, wishing he had grabbed some salt. They stepped in the room, eyes and ears open to any phantom activity. Nothing that Sam could pick up. There were no cold spots in the room. It looked and felt just like any other young boy's room.

Jamie's interests varied, but from the décor, he had a few things on his mind; baseball, basketball and video games. Funny, his son was nothing like he was as a kid, he mused.

With a sigh and a shrug, he turned to Cas.

"I don't sense anything," he whispered.

Cas seemed to be picking up on something.

"There was something here," Cas quietly revealed.

"How can a ghost get into here," Sam asked, "Abby has salt lines running all around the property."

"This land has a history, Sam. Farmers, pioneers, Native Americans all lived here on the land. Perhaps, if there is a ghost, he's attached to the ground and can come and go from the house-"

"Because it's on the territory. Do you think the salt lines are trapping him in here?"

"Could likely be the case, Sam."

"But--why talk to Jamie?"

"Well, that I'm not sure of, but I'm sure of where we could get the answer."

"Zachariah."

Cas nodded and suggested they go back to his place to get some privacy. They didn't April to know what was going on for her own safety.

Sam ordered April to stay put and watch her family as he left to join Cas in his car. She nodded in accord, squeezing a sleeping Jamie to her side as a sign of a promise.

"I have to summon him, much like Dean summoned me years ago. I can't just ask him to come," Cas acknowledged as he drove the short distance to his house. "Even still, he may not show up."

"Well, can't we talk to somebody?"

"I don't know, Sam. I'm kind of an outcast now, remember?"

"But," Sam rebutted. "You saved us all! How can they alienate you like that?!"

"Well, for two reasons, if you must know," he chuckled. "First off, I'm human. Angels, most of them, don't look at mortals in the best light…that includes ex-angelics who chose to become mortal; no matter what the purpose. Second, I'm still speaking to you."

_

* * *

_

They walked into the bar, eyeing the establishment. The place was trendy and upscale, definitely more high-class than what he was used to.

He eyed the crowd searching for their target.

"He's near the back," Wes whispered with a smirk, "And it looks like we came just in time. It seems the Calvary has already arrived."

Wes started towards the high table in the back where Jesse was seated. Two patrons leaned across the small pub table, one with his hand cracking the edge of it. Vampires.

Dylan shielded his mind, just in case any of them were telepaths.

He could hear his heart pounding as they approached.

_'Don't show fear,'_ he warned himself.

His breathing because shallower.

_'Calm down, man.'_

He tried as he approached the table in what appeared to be slow motion. Vampires; and not just ones like Wes or his mother. Not ones who cared. No. Honest to God bloodsuckers who killed humans for sport.

"Well, well, what do we have here," Wes' voice rang with clear authority. "Gentleman and gentlewoman, what brings you here?" He placed his hands on the table, causing it to shake violently.

This was not going to be good.

"Wesley? Did she send you as well?"

_She?_

"No, no…you see, I'm not here to do her bidding. I'm here for my ole' pal," he drawled, placing an arm loosely around Jesse's shoulder.

"Well," the female vampires chuckled. "Your ole' pal is in a lot of trouble."

She walked closer to Wes, purposefully grabbing a hold of Jesse's collar.

"He's coming with us," she purred into the blonde man's ear.

"No, he's not," Wes said with a deadly grin.

"Don't be stupid," the male vampire finally stepped in. "Are you up to defying her?"

Wes tossed back the shot set in front of his frozen friend and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
"I have greater plans than following that bitch's orders anymore."

"That's blasphemy," the gorgeous female vampire smiled wickedly.

"Then may I go to Heaven," he sneered.

Dylan stood back from the scene. Two vampires against two…and himself. Did he really want to tangle with the undead?

His eyes met Wes. The dark vampire eyes were sending him a signal. The vampire foes weren't going to back down. Dylan had to use his power.

He gathered up his strength, feeling the power boiling under his skin. The familiar spark in the back of his mind told him he was ready.

"Excuse me," he said, voice shaky. "I--I think you two should leave."

They looked over at him; the pitiful half-vampire, half-human, and scoffed.

"Leave now boy, and we'll make your death relatively painless," the female blasted.

It wasn't going how he planned.

He forced the power to the surface again, this time gathering as much as he could.

"I said to leave."

"Who the fuck are you," the male snarled, approaching him swiftly, covering the distance in a matter of milliseconds.

Shit.

Before he knew what was happening, his neck was in the grip of a vice. The fingers wrapped around his neck tightened and tightened. His lungs and throat burned for the sweet feel of fresh air.

_'I can't black out,' he thought. 'I can't black out.'_

Just as suddenly as the hand had clamped his body, he found himself abruptly tugged back like a rag doll. His body was held up in a corner, before he felt a sharp sting on his shoulder.

The wound burned as he felt his life being drawn out of him. Slowly, he was being drained.

With a frustrated snarl, the vampire attacking him pulled away, setting him down gently on the tile floor.

Dylan was going in and out of consciousness, but could still hear the commotion.

"I think my young companion was right," the powerful voice echoed. "You should leave. Oh--and while you're at it…why don't you both go into the woods down the road and kill each other. Rip each other apart piece by piece."

He could swear he heard a male and a female say yes, followed by the sound of footsteps heading in the opposite direction.

"Hey, are you alright," an unfamiliar male voice said. "Wes, he's not answering."

"He'll be alright," Wes with a hint of a smile on his voice. "Come on, you carry him."

Dylan could feel his body being lifted with ease, followed by the gentle sway of a graceful walk. Within a few minutes, he was laying on soft, smooth clothe. The roar of the car slightly roused him.

"You know, Jesse, his power is almost too good to resist. Maybe I should be back to the sweet April and see what I could get her to do."

Asshole.

"You stay away from her," Jesse said with deadly authority. "I won't let you kill her like you killed Jenny."

"Ouch. Way to open old wounds…and even after I rescued you."

"Why did you do it, Wes? What's in it for you?"

"She's after April."

"I know."

"I need you to protect her while I go play good-little-servant boy to lead her away. She can't get her hands on April."

"Do you know her plan?"

"Not yet, Jesse, but I intend to find out. But I have a sinking feeling that it has to do with something very personal. I wouldn't put it past her to use April or to use her to lure someone else."

There was an awkward pause.

"Don't you worry, Wes. I'll take care of her and this time, I'm sticking around if you get my drift."

The car accelerated forward at a high rate of speed.

_

* * *

_

Abby sighed as they pulled up to the house.

_Home. Her home. Their home._

She shook Dean's adorable sleeping form in the passenger seat.

"Babe," she whispered, leaning forward to give him a kiss. "We're home, hun."

"Already," he groaned and stretched. "Christ, my back."

"Come on. Let's get to bed. Our bed," she smiled, her heart swelling at the homecoming.

He smiled, causing her chest to tighten with happiness.

She jumped out of the car and zoomed to the other side, opening the door and pulling him out by his hand.

"Happy," he laughed as she yanked his form to him.

"Ecstatic," she giggled.

Dean devilishly smirked, and bent down so she could jump on his back. Abby laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around her husband. Oh, how she adored him.

He quickly bounded up the woodened steps. As he opened the front door, they heard the sounds of a television.

"Hey, what time is it? Why are the kids up," he asked.

"I don't know, maybe it's Sam?"

They entered the house to find light coming from the living room. Sure enough, the television was on.

"Hey, anyone home," Dean said.

"Dad?"

April appeared from around the corner, her smile ear to ear. Abby slid off of his back as her daughter jumped into her father's arms.

"Hey kid," he chuckled. "What's up?"

"A lot."

He pulled their daughter back, concern written over both their faces.

"What's going on," Abigail asked her daughter.

"Where's Sam," Dean questioned after scanning the room.

"He's out with Cas. Dad, I think we've got a problem."

Abby's focus on her daughter was drawn away by a very loud mental voice.

_'Oh God I feel like shit. I wish Sam was back. Abby was right about this morning sickness crap, it does happen anytime of the day.'_

Before she could stop herself, she blurred into the living room finding Ruby and her son on the couch.

"You are," Abby asked.

"Shh, you'll wake him up," Ruby chided.

_'Please don't. Oh I'm totally going to throw up again.'_

"Oh my god, congratulations," she smiled, going forward to embrace her sister-in-law.

"Shh, Abby. Fuck," she swore. "Shut up."

"Why? This is exciting, Ruby!"

She peered up to Abby with guilty eyes.

"Because I haven't told _him_ yet."

_

* * *

_

The symbols were laid out on the floor of Cas' garage, drawn in chalk. They were precisely written, the pattern around the floor meticulously placed. They were ready.

Cas started the summoning incantation and Sam braced himself for what may show up. Had they done the right steps, or were they luring something both of them couldn't comprehend? Sam just had to put his faith in his friend's knowledge.

Before long, the atmosphere in the barn started to change. There was a strange, thick energy playing in the air. The lights burst in their lamps, shrouding them in darkness.

Walking in from the open door was a man but he carried with him a power; a power Sam recognized.

The silhouetted figure approached deliberately until he was standing less than ten feet from the pair.

Lightning suddenly lit up the sky and Sam could see the distinct outline of dark wings.

"You rang?"

_

* * *

_


	11. Fooling Yourself: The Angry Young Man

* * *

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/02/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"Hello, Castiel," Zachariah greeted, nodding to his former friend and colleague. The angel didn't bother to acknowledge Sam's existance. Sure, he understood why he was shunned, but he still couldn't help but feel offended. After all, shouldn't forgiveness be in their nature? That obviously wasn't the case.

"Zachariah," Castiel addressed.

"So, you called me," the angel said, putting his arms behind his back.

"We have some questions regarding Jamie Winchester," Cas stated.

"No offense, Cas, but that's official angel business. It's no longer your concern," the elder angel replied.

Sam could feel his blood start to boil. There Cas was, trying to help, knowing he was going to be frowned upon--and yet there he was, next to Sam none-the-less, asking for assistance. And, once again, an angel was being a dick.

"Look, angel business or not," Sam started trying to hold back his frustration. "This is about the well-being of a little kid."

Zachariah twisted his torso towards Sam, cracking his neck to the side.

"Samuel, nice to see you--_human_ again. At least for the most part."

The hairs raised on the back of his neck. What did he mean 'for the most part?'

"Zachariah, please. Why are spirits coming to Jamie," Cas pressed, brows furrowed with concern.

"He's a sensitive. When you took him as an infant, it only heightened his innate spiritual sensibilities. The psychic abilities were already there, thanks to his _mother_."

Sam couldn't help but bite his tongue at the tone in Zachariah's voice when he referred to Abby. It was obvious that he didn't consider her to be a suitable parent for anyone or anything. The angel had no respect for the boy's mother, even though she had nearly sacrificed her immortal existence for the sake of all humanity. What more could they ask of her to prove herself?

"But why are _you _speaking to him," Sam asked abruptly, his heart pounding.

"It's not _your_ concern."

"The hell it isn't! He's my--"

"_Son_," Zachariah spat. "He's _Dean's_ son, placed into his care by divine intervention. You may have given him existence, but you are _not_ his father."

Sam's heart shredded in two. Truth be told, he thought he didn't deserve to be Jamie's father after he found out what he did to Abby. There was _no way_. It was his penance to stay away as much as possible. But, Dean wanted him to be involved in be the uncle they never had as kids. The boy needed someone like they needed a Bobby in their lives as kids. So, after reflecting on his misgivings, he did as Dean asked and created a nice Uncle-Nephew relationship with the boy. However, as he witnessed Jamie aging, the similarities between himself and his 'nephew' were becoming more and more apparent. Jamie was still small in stature, but Sam knew from his own life that that would change. Come sixteen, that kid was going to sprout up and surpass his older brother. His mannerisms, his walking gate, the way he ran his hand through his hair...it was too close to his own. It was becoming a constant reminder. There were times he'd catch Abby over the years, looking from him to her son and back again, with remorse in her eyes. That's what killed him.

"I know--I know what happened was wrong, but it wasn't my fault," Sam finally responded.

"Wasn't your fault," Zachariah laughed. "Samuel, _you_ had the choice to be good and not follow that path. Whether or not you felt your intentions at the time were noble, _you_ were doing evil. _You_ were doing his work. _You_ were the one who made it all possible."

"Zachariah, that's enough," Cas interrupted.

"I appreciate you trying to protect your _'friend_,' Castiel, but he's going to get you in more trouble than it's worth. As for the boy; we're keeping an eye on him."

Sam's pulse stopped.

"We've been watching him since he was given back to Abigail and Dean. As you were given Azazel's blood, you also past it on to your offspring. True, the exorcism seemed to helped, but we're keeping up our guard. We can't let another episode like we had years ago....right, Samuel?"

"Jamie is nothing like--"

"_You_," the angel mocked

"He's a little boy," Cas stepped in between Zachariah and Sam. "He means no harm."

"Sam was once a little boy too, Cas. You of all people should know that. It doesn't mean that he won't go down the wrong path eventually."

"Let's just have _faith_that the boy's family will make sure he takes the right one," Cas argued.

"We don't have _faith_in people, Cas...you know that," Zachariah smirked before he turned back to Sam "We'll be around."

With a flash of lightning and the flutter of wings, the angel was gone.

Sam's fists were clenched. It had taken everything in his body not to just bum rush the bastard. Not only had he showed no respect for Sam, but he was making remarks about his son.

"Sam."

A hand rested on his shoulder, gripping it gently.

"Sam, I know what you're thinking."

"Do you," he turned to his friend.

"I warned you that he'd show little regard for either of us."

"Cas, the least he could have done is shown some for my _son_ who's done _nothing_ wrong."

"He's human Sam; he's already considered wrong. But, he's right. He was born with Azazel's blood. That's something he's stuck with...but it's not something that needs to consume him. You know that."

Sam closed his eyes and took in a deep breathe. It was true, Jamie didn't have to follow his same dark path. He could be normal as he grew. He'd be fine. But he couldn't help but think of his first sign of power; psychic visions. Jamie was already speaking with angels and ghosts. He could see a clear picture of his son in his mind and it terrified him. It was his son with yellow eyes.

* * *

Abby gingerly lifted Ruby from the couch and onto her swollen feet before leading her into the downstairs bathroom. She physically urged Ruby to lay down on the floor, her head flush against the cold tile.

"God that feels good," Ruby murmured.

"Told you. It was an old trick I used to use. Some nights I'd sleep on the floor in here. Dean almost stepped on me a few times. I had to put notes on the door to warn him," she smiled.

She reached for a clean washcloth, soaking it in the cold water running from the faucet. Abby sank down next to her friend, placing the chilled fabric on the back of her neck.

"Uh, that's heavenly," she moaned. "Relief!"

Abby reminded her that the morning sickness wasn't going to last forever.

"So, you haven't told him yet," Abby whispered.

"No."

"You're still scared to?"

"Yeah. It's just...I know he's not going to want it, Ab. He's made it clear he doesn't want kids. Sam doesn't think he deserves any. I--I didn't plan this, Abby, I swear."

"I believe you," she soothed, running a hand through Ruby's warm hair.

"But will he?"

Abby paused.

"You really think he'll think you got pregnant on purpose, Ruby?"

She didn't answer, meaning, yes. Ruby definitely felt guilty, which was probably attributing to her feeling shitty.

"Ruby, hun," she said. "Take it from me, he won't think that."

"I'm scared Abby."

With a sigh, Abby recounted her own misgivings and fears when she was pregnant with her own children. It was, of course, a new experience. It was human nature to fear the unknown.

That's when Abby recognized the sound of breathing close by, and not from in the room.

_Knock. Knock._

"Dean, you don't have to knock after you eavesdrop. It doesn't make it any less rude," Abby scolded as the guilty party entered.

Dean popped his head around the cracked door, his eyes looking guilty.  
_  
Dean. Dean. Dean. _What was she going to do with him?

She raised her eyebrow and scowled.

"Sorry," he said, his eyes to the floor instantly. "I thought something was goin' on. I just wanted to check on you."

Her eyes softened. Damn. His puppy dog, guilt-ridden eyes would be the death of her.

"Ruby's just not feeling well, right Ruby," Abby said, nudging her back to remind her to be quiet.

"Ab…I was at the door long enough to know what's really goin' on. So, are you gonna tell him, Ruby?"

Shit. Not good. Dean couldn't--no, wouldn't, keep anything from Sam.

Ruby remained silent, but Abby could see a change in her body. She was stiff and uncomfortable; her face on the verge of tears.

Dean rubbed his eyes with his hands before leaning his shoulder against the door frame.

"Look," he started, setting his gaze to the mirror. "I know what it's like not to be the first to know."

_'Ouch.'_

"Sam was the one that told me and he had let all out during a fight. I'm over it now…but to know the person that's carrying your kid doesn't have the guts to tell you--it sucks. It's a real slap in the face. So, do us all a favor and tell him and soon. He deserves to know, and I don't wanna be the one who has to tell him because his wife is too scared. Seems wrong to me."

The room was heavy was emotion. Abby could feel Ruby's mind churning; if she told Sam, would it ruin their marriage? Would he hate her?

Dean's thoughts were filled with the hurt he felt the moment Sam had revealed Abby's condition:  
_"Sam, it was just a fling," he lied. "I mean, she's hot and all but…I'm not looking for anything long term. I got a year left. Gotta live it up."  
_

"_Tell that to the woman carrying your kid!"_

He was clearly lying. He _was_ still hurt that she hadn't told him right away. His mind had finally accepted why she hadn't, but to not have had those few months before his trip downstairs…

Her own mind was filled with one repeating word: Guilt. If she could only go back? Why didn't she just go to him and tell him? Why? Because she was scared. Abigail Stuart was a sad, lost, lonely woman who in many respects was still seventeen. No family to guide her. No friends at the ready to support her relationship with a human. Nothing.

"I'm going to put Jamie in bed and then April wanted to talk," Dean said with a sad smile. "Meet you upstairs soon?"

"Yeah," she softly replied.

'I love you,' she mouthed.  
There it was again, that same incredibly sad smile. It pulled at her heartstrings. Oh, if only she knew back then how much she was going to hurt him later on.

"Ruby, he's right," she finally whispered, playing with her sister-in-law's strands. "You've gotta tell him and sooner than later. Don't be a fuck up like I was."

No answer.

She brushed back brown, wavy locks to find Ruby fast asleep on the floor. Abby smiled down at her sleeping friend. Softly, she rose to gather a blanket and pillow for Ruby to sleep with. Tonight, although the floor was harsh, it was cool and comfortable; she'd do better in there. She lifted the lithe girl's head, sliding a pillow from the couch to support her neck. With the smoothed afghan gently caressing her friend's body, she closed the door behind her and set off to the bedroom.

* * *

Dean fought with himself: should he head upstairs or wait up for Sam? Maybe he should head out to Cas'?

A large yawn broke his thoughts. Fuck. He was way too tired.

He trudged up the stairs, checking on both his sleeping children and guests. April had headed upstairs after revealing what had happened that evening with Jamie.

Poor kid. At least he didn't seem too spooked by his experiences. Well, at least he knew what they were up against. His plans for the next day were investigating and deaths on the properties and hopefully getting a name so they could salt and burn some bones. Getting rid of the spirit was the best idea for everyone involved, ghost included.

The door creaked slightly as he made his way into their bedroom. His heart almost stopped when he saw her in the bed. After the last time they had been in the room…no, he wouldn't think about that.

With a smirk, he stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and slid under the covers.

She was already asleep, her breathing soft.

God, she was beautiful, he thought, brushing the hair away from her face. He had to admit, he was pretty fucking lucky.

He curled up around her, wrapping her securely in his arms.

"G'night babe," he whispered, gently kissing the back of her neck.

He was surprised when she flipped around the face him, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she sighed.

He cupped her face in his hands.

"For what," he asked, brows furrowed.

"For not telling you. Don't lie and tell me you weren't upset," she whispered.

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

"My Abby," he smirked, brushing the hair from her forehead. "Always such a drama queen."

"I'm serious , Dean!"

"Hey, calm down…alright, it was bad then. I thought you were actually being a complete bitch. Feel better?"

"No."

"Well, then let's shut up about it and move on. "

She didn't look like she was gonna be able to that night. Abby may be a good faker in front of the world but she couldn't fake her way out of anything with him…and he meant anything.

"Listen, babe, it's done. It's in the past...it's over and finished," he laughed. She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't wanna live my life like that, ya know? We have time together--limited from my end."

"Well, _mine _too," she hissed matter-of-factly.

Dean was puzzled by her response.

"What do ya mean by that, Ab?"

"Well," she sighed, tugging carelessly at the neckline of his shirt, "When you go...I'm going to follow."

He drew her away from him, his hands clamped on her upper arms. Dean quickly sat them up together in bed.

"What the fuck do you mean you're gonna follow? You better not mean what I think you mean."

"Who's being a drama queen now, Dean," she smirked, tryin' to lighten the mood. That shit wasn't goin' to work.

"Not the time to screw around. What the hell are you talking about," he asked again, this time with more fervor.

"Not all vampires are like me. If life got too hard, you'd have to find a way to...well, you know. Me? All I have to do is walk outside without this on," she tapped her bracelet. "Dean, I don't think I can make it with out you again. No--I _know_ I can't do it again."

He rolled his eyes. _Of course she could_. She'd left him not that long ago and had seemed to be survivin' just fine on her own. True, she went a little batty, but she was still around. And he had left for what was gonna be for good. Dean was dead; dead as a doornail and yet Abby had walked on. He couldn't figure out why after her near death experiences, if she was born immortal, why would she wanna end it? On top of that...their kids. Their kids took after their mother, as being part vampire. That meant they too were immortal. Dean would be damned if the mother of his children left them behind. If he could have had his mother forever, he would've.

"No, you have to stay for them," Dean whispered, nodding his head in the direction of the kids room. "The kids are gonna need you some day after I'm gone."

"Death of parents is part of the human experience-"

"In our case it doesn't have to be so why the fuck would you put them through that?! Especially since we both lost our parents," he said, slightly disgusted.

"So you want me to stay here, _forever_, for them?"

"Yes."

"How could you be so cruel," she sobbed.

"How could _you_ be so fucking _selfish_, Abby."

She wiped unshed tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"It's not selfish, Dean. Selfish was wanting to turn you into a vampire if they said you weren't going to wake up in the hospital...or thinking of turning you against your will as a way to get you out of your deal. _Those _thoughts were selfish. I'm not thinking that way anymore," she tugged lightly on his shirt, her eyes averting his own. "You're human. I know that. I knew that when I decided that I cared about you. I've lost human friends and lovers before. In what seems like an eye blink, they're gone. I learned to live with it. But with you? Dean…I've lost you too many times to lose you again for good."

He swallowed hard.

"I never thought of giving up my earthly immortality for anyone before, you know? It never really seemed like an option. But if I lost you…I don't see another option. Dean," she looked up at him, her dark eyes shiny. "You're my soul; if you go, so do I."

Dean tugged her to him, holding her head against his chest. She sobbed quietly, her hands lightly fisting his top. He did his best to soothe her, telling her it was ok, all the while running his fingers through her ebony hair. His hands rubbed her back, trying his best to comfort her. Abby's own arms quietly wrapped around his body as her tremors started to stop. His lips grazed her forehead.

He wasn't done with the discussion. There would be hell to pay if he left their kids behind…but he didn't have the heart or strength to do it that night. Instead, he held her close and told her that he loved her.

"I love you too, Dean. More than you could ever know."

"I think I could take a guess," he chuckled, his face being tickled by her hair.

"So," she changed the subject. "What did April want to tell you?"

"I'll tell you later, babe. First thing first; get some sleep."

She agreed and snuggled up against him, happily drifting off to rest soon after. Dean, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. He had way too many things on his mind.

* * *

He still couldn't open his eyes. They were too heavy. Funny, but the rest of him felt extremely light, as if he could float away at any second. It was peaceful….very soothing.

His moment of nirvana was interrupted by the abrupt slamming of a door.

"We're in the clear."

"Good."

"He didn't wake up yet?"

"No. He's out. His neck is pretty bruised. I gave him some pain meds but he's really drained. Speaking of drained, shouldn't you have asked him to borrow his power?"

"Sorry but we were kind of in a jam, if you couldn't tell. Oh wait--maybe you couldn't because you were too busy getting beat up by a girl!"

"You--you never grow up, do you, Wes?! You're still a dick!"

"And you're still a little bitch, Jesse!"

The emotions radiating off the other two men in the room was toxic. Even in his sleep, he could feel the loathing.

"I promised him I wouldn't, but it just happened, alright? If I hadn't, all of us would be dead! No, correction…_most_ of us would be dead."

"You would have joined them to save your own hide, wouldn't you?!"

"But of course," Wes said.

"So you're still a coward after all these years! I should have known."

"Oh, how I miss dueling," Wes lamented. "I miss the days when you could accuse someone of sullying your good name. Pistols at dawn, that sort of thing. Those were the days. Why oh why didn't they mass produce the Colt so _we_ could have had that much fun? I would have _loved_ to have done you in and stood over your bullet-riddled body."

"Well, we could always run at each other with large machetes," Jesse joked.

"Well, well…he's not dead yet! When did _you_ develop a sense of humor?"

There was a devastatingly long pause, followed by a drawn-out sigh.

"Would you have really rejoined them? Gone back to _her_," Jesse hesitatingly asked.

"Yes."

"I knew you were cruel, but to sacrifice us to save yourself--"

"It wouldn't be for _my_ benefit, believe me."

That's when it clicked into Dylan's mind; Wes would let himself be brought back to the clutches of whoever 'her' was in order to protect _April. _It wasn't about the vampire's self-preservation at all. It was really all about leading them away from the girl.

"I meant what I said, Wes. If I go back to her, I'm not leaving."

"Suit yourself, Jesse. She's kind of a pain in the ass. Girls today are fun to play with but are so--how should I put this--less _pure _than they used to be. Do _you_ get my drift?"

Dylan's mind was shot with a wave of anger and jealously.

"Calm down, friend," Wes chuckled. "Believe me, you can have her."

His own mind was swallowed up by feeling once more, but this time, it was...confusing. There was jealously again, lots of it, followed by wave after wave of remorse and regret. He only wished he knew which one it was coming from.


	12. Wearing and Tearing

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/23/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Dean stared in disbelief, arms across his chest, as the four teenage boys ogled his daughter. They watched her inside the waiting area of the garage, looking through the glass at his daughter workin' on their bike. One of the morons drove one of those crotch rockets. Way to look like a big, bad dude by riding a pussy bike.

April was bent over it, fixin' whatever was wrong with the handlebars. Apparently, the guys could see down her jumpsuit from that angle.

"Look at the titties on that piece of ass," one kid whispered to another, elbowing him.

"Good, she is so fucking bangable," the other whispered back.

Dean twisted the rag in his hand hard, pretending it was their necks. He tossed it down on the counter and approached the gang of morons.

"Can I help you," Dean interrupted, stepping out from behind the customer service counter.

"Nah," one started. "Just waiting for my bike. The babe said it would be ready today."

"Well, 'the babe' was wrong," Dean smirked. "We don't have the part."

"But she said-"

"And _I _said, we don't have the part. Come back in a week," Dean chuckled.

"But-"

"Thanks," Dean said, lending his hand out for a handshake. As soon as the boy took it, he pulled him close. "By the way, that _piece of ass _in there is my _daughter. _Come back and act like a punk again, and I'll fuck up your world. _Got it_?"

Scrambling away as quickly as possible, all four took off in one car.

_Assholes.  
_  
April looked up from her work in confusion as Dean entered the main part of the garage.

"I thought they were waitin' for the bike? I'm almost done," she mused, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

"They'll be back in about a week." He smiled at his daughter and tossed her a spare towel to remove the smear of grease from her cheek.

"Daddy," she rolled her eyes. "What did you do?"

"Doin' what dad's are supposed to do. Protect you from douchebags like that."  
_'Like how I used to be,' _he reminded himself. "You're just lucky I didn't kill 'em."

"Dad, I'm not a cream puff. I can totally handle myself," she smirked, throwing the towel playfully back in his direction.

"Good to know," he joked.

"So, about that case I told you about last night; I wanted you to look at-"

"April, I don't know," Dean interrupted.

Before he could argue with her, she jogged over to her car. She returned with a folder spewing with papers.

"Here," she said, forcefully putting the folder in his hand. "That's all the info I could pull up."

"April," he sighed, running a free hand through his hair. "I don't think this is a good idea. No, I _know_ it's not a good idea."

"Come on, Dad, just take a look."

Dean sighed in defeat and skimmed through the folder. She had put together a pretty damn impressive case file. The folder had information dating back to a similar case years before. He had to admit, she had put together a hell of a file.

"So, these people are," he asked, flipping through the paper clipped papers.

"Just disappearing," April said, only pausing to chug back some water. "They get home from school and then…they're just reported missing. No obvious signs of struggles. Nothing."

Weird…but not _that_ weird. Maybe they were just runaways. Teenagers seemed really angst-ridden, even more so than when he was younger. Hell, even more so than Sammy.

"I wouldn't be that concerned except it doesn't seem random, Dad. I mean, a group of teens at my school don't seem like a great target for the supernatural."

"April, no one really is," he smirked. "Any other useful info?"

She went on to explain that one house had an iron fence running the whole way around. Well, that ruled out demon, at least for all of the kids.

"It can't be a ghost going from house to house," she thought aloud.

"Could be a Bloody Mary type thing," he jumped in.

"But that would mean they'd all have something in common, right? An object or-"

"Someone they knew or pissed off."

April shot down the idea. The kids were a clique but they were relatively nice.

"A.C., all it takes is one psycho at school to get looked at the wrong way. Maybe someone just got set off."

"Dad, they haven't found a body. Not one piece of these kids. I went to Lindsay's house, telling her parents I was a close friend and that I wanted to say goodbye. They kept her room the way she'd left it. I went through there was an EMF and holy watered the shit outta that place. Nothing. No smell of sulfur either. The only weird thing was what looked like scratch marks on the floor-"

"Wait. Did you say scratch marks on the floor," Dean asked, his mind going a mile a minute. She nodded yes. "Were they comin' out from underneath the bed?"

She tilted her head curiously.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I think I know what we're dealin' with."

"Great! I'll go change and get my tools and we'll go take care of it," she bounced towards her car.

"Woah, woah…who said anything about _you _takin' care of it?"

"Dad, it's _my_ case. I'm runnin' the show here," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh _really_," Dean said, becoming annoyed with his smart-ass daughter.

"_Yeah_. So, you can either help or go home."

"Well, how 'bout I just go home and tell your Mom what you're up to," he threatened. "You think she'd wanna know you're doin' hunts by yourself?"

April rolled her eyes.

"Dad, come on! I'm just tryin' to help here! People are gonna keep dying if we don't do something about it." She approached Dean and gave him her best puppy dog eyes. Shit. He was a goner. "_Please_, Daddy. I need your help."

He sighed deeply, wishing she didn't have that damn power of hers.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat. "But, we're doin' this _my _way. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it."

"Good, get your stuff and let's go. I'll call your mom and let her know what we're doin."

"But Dad," April protested. "Why does Mom gotta know?! She's gonna shit a brick."

"Because I'm not gonna lie to her anymore and she needs to know just in case we need her or Sammy as backup."

* * *

Abby watched Jamie like a hawk, tuning into his mind when she got the chance.

"What, Mom," he asked, worriedly staring at her.

"Nothin' sweetie, just waiting for a call from your brother," she feigned a smile.

"Ok," he said before running up to give her a hug. "I missed you, Mom. Promise that you'll never go away again?"

His question brought up her conversation with Dean the night before. She still hadn't forgotten his request for her to stay. But, what was she going to do, tell her son _"Sorry Mama is going to off herself once your Daddy leaves?"_So, she answered the only way she knew how to placate her worried child; she said of course she would always be there. In essence, she hoped that would be the case either way.

Jamie smiled at her and ran off to play upstairs with his friend; human friend.

"You're worried about him," Ruby asked, taking a seat by her in the kitchen.

"I am. Dean told me about the whole 'talking to dead people' thing," she sighed, swirling the warm blood in her coffee cup with her finger. "Needless to say, I'm extremely worried. I really wanna talk to your husband, but he's not picking up his calls."

"I know," Ruby snapped back, catching Abby off guard. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I don't mean to be bitchy. I'm just tired and cranky."

Abby told her not to worry about it, that she also remembered what it was like being hormonal. Both Dean and Sam had taken the brunt of her verbal abuse during her term with the twins.

"I just hope this won't last the whole time," Ruby mused, taking a sip of water.

"Well, you still feel off, but at least the morning sickness goes away," she smiled reassuringly.

The creaking of the screen door sounded from the entryway. She could tell who it was just from the sound of his approach, and apparently so did Ruby; she stiffened up like a statue.

_'Please don't tell him,'_ Ruby thought, her eyes searching Abby's

"I promise I won't," she whispered. "Why don't you go lay down in my bed and take a nap, ok? I'll have Sam wake you up later so you don't oversleep."

Ruby nodded and proceeded to head up to Abby's bedroom.

"Hey," Sam said, his hands in his pockets as he stood in the entry to the kitchen.

"Hey, Sam," she smiled back, patting the seat next to her.

He ran a hand through his hair as he sat down.

"Hey, Ab," he said, before looking around the room. "Where's my wife?"

"Upstairs sleeping. She's feeling a little better though. She was worried about you. You didn't come back last night."

Sam put his head on the table in obvious exhaustion.

"I know," his voiced muffled on his arm. He went on to give her the run down on what happened at Cas' place, including his nice little 'chat' with Zachariah.

Abby knocked her glass onto the floor at the mere mention of the angel's name, spilling its grisly contents.

"_Shit_," she swore, as she hurriedly cleaned it up before Jamie could see the blood on the floor. After wiping up the remains of the stain, she sank back down into her chair, her head in her hands. "But…why would Zachariah be 'watching' Jamie?"

Sam's lips tightened into a line, his eyes meeting Abby's with intensity. His mind was open to her and we was only thinking one thing;

_Because he's mine, Abby._

_What was that supposed to mean? So…he was Jamie's biological father. So what?_ That's when the image of Jamie with yellow eyes flashed through Sam's mind, and it all clicked into place. Even after the exorcism, the angels were keeping an eye on Jamie's apparent innate potential to turn evil.

Hesitantly, Sam reached his hand across the table and gently took one of Abby's hands. His thumb sweetly stroked the back of her hand. Before he spoke, Sam choked down some tears.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "Abby, I'm so sorry."

It was the first time he had verbally apologized to her about what happened. He had only thought it before, and she knew just from his mind how sorry he really was. She didn't want to force him to say it. But there it was, strewn out across the table.

"Sam, you don't have to-"

"Abby, I do."

"We've been over this. It wasn't_ you_ who did that to me," she tried to smile at him.

"Yes it was," he replied stiffly. "_I_ opened myself up to it. It was _my_ fault." His hand squeezed hers tighter.

"Ok, so what it if it was," she whispered forcefully, leaning closer across the table. "It's over and done. And if it didn't happen, there wouldn't be a Jamie. Things happen for a reason."

"People only say that to give reason to why bad things happen to them, Abby," he shot back. "That shouldn't have ever, _ever_ happened to you."

"Well, it did," she said, pulling her hand back sharply. "It _happened_. Do you know how much it took at first to even be in the same room as _you_?! When you came back to us, all I could picture was _you_ pinning me down, _you_ ripping my clothes off…"

She paused to get a handle on herself. Abby closed her eyes, the images of her attack filtered through her mind. It wasn't Sam, she reminded herself over and over. It was the demon that took over. That's what violated her.

Her eyes opened again, she hesitantly looked at her brother-in-law. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes were pools of despair.

"Sam, it's ok," she sighed. "It's over and done. And I mean it; it wasn't you. I know that…you should know that too."

"You may forgive me," Sam struggled to speak. "But I will _never _forgive myself."

"Well what we need to do right now, Sam, is protect Jamie. We need to keep a closer eye on him, ask him more questions…we need to make sure _it _can't happen again."

Sam nodded in agreement. He took her hand again, patting the back of it, using his free hand to wipe his eyes.

"I don't deserve to have you in my life," he sighed and chuckled. "I really don't. Or Jamie…or Ruby. Anyone for that matter. This right here, this self-loathing, is _exactly_ why I don't want kids. And now that I know I could pass Azazel's blood onto my kids? I'm going to make damn sure it doesn't happen again."

_'Well, Ruby is going to have a field day telling him her little bit of news.'_

_  
_

* * *

"Wake up," a voice ordered him. "You need to eat something."

Slowly, Dylan opened his eyes only to stare at the cheap fake-tin ceiling of an old hotel room. The light shining from the table next to his bed burned his sensitive vision. He rubbed his face as he sat himself up, taking inventory of his surroundings. Yep, he was right, he was in a hotel room…and he wasn't alone.

"Dylan, are you alright?"

He turned to the direction of the voice to find a worried vampire on the bed. Jesse was seated on the edge of the opposite bed, staring at him with great concern.

"I've been better," he answered, his voice hoarse.

"You need to eat something, to keep your strength," Jesse said, tossing him a handful of takeout menus. "Pick something and I'll go get it for you."

"Um…thanks," Dylan replied with some confusion, as he perused the stack of meal options.

"I'm not sure what's considered…_good_ food to humans, so I grabbed everyone they had in the lobby," the blonde vampire smirked.

"No, this is good," he said, picking something off a menu. "I think I'll just get this chicken dumpling soup with bread."

"Ok," Jesse stood and stretched. "Anything else?"

"Water maybe? I'm not feeling too well," he said, his muscles feeling achy like it did when he had the flu.

"Well, just rest. I'll go get you your food."

Jesse left and Dylan had time to survey what had happened. He remembered the scuffle in the bar, then he had gotten hit? His mind couldn't really recall what happened next. All of his thoughts were pretty foggy.

Registering his aching body, he carefully got out of bed and headed to the shower. Maybe the warm water would help him focus.

He passed the mirror on the way to the shower and gasped. Dylan leaned across the bathroom counter towards the mirror, his hands pressed against his neck, feeling to see if his eyes were playing tricks on himself.

Nope, there they were. Two clean puncture wounds.

"Well, looks who's up?"

Dylan turned around and stared at Wes. The dark haired vampire stood in front of him, his arms across his chest, a proud smirk and amusement playing on his face.

"You son of a bitch," Dylan said, his hands still on his throat. Before Wes could say anything, Dylan lunged forward, knocking the vampire to the ground and punching that smirk right off of his face.


	13. Used To Bad News

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/23/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"You are an insane boy," Wes laughed as Dylan pummeled him with his fists. That didn't stop Dylan from continuing to hit him violently, and in turn, Wesley laughed with more vigor.

"Seriously, Dylan," the vampire chuckled as he grabbed the young man's hands. "Stop it before you hurt yourself."

"You fucking bastard," Dylan swore, taking a step back. He stared down the powerful vampire, knowing full well he wasn't doin' any good. "You promised."

"And I would have kept my word if you were conscious enough for me to ask you," he said, standing up and straightening out his clothes.

Dylan took deliberate steps after him, standing only inches away.

"Oh, don't be dumb," Wes grumbled. "Look at my face. Those bruises you left are almost healed, right? What about _your_ hand?"

Through the adrenaline, Dylan hadn't noticed the throbbing pain in his hand. He looked down at knuckles to find them obscenely purple and swollen. In fact, he couldn't move two of his fingers; they were most likely broken. And his opponent appeared unscathed. That was good for his ego.

His fingers went up to his neck again, feeling the small holes in his throat. He had never felt so used...so violated.

"I would have asked you but I had no choice. It was either let you be killed or borrow your power and save your sorry ass," Wes stated matter-of-factly. "You'd be dead if I didn't do what I had to do, so get over it, boy."

His head was spinning, his vision blurry, possibly from a combination of a lack of food and blood. He weaved on his feet, feeling his body tumbling to the ground. Two cold, firm hands caught him on the way to the floor.

"Easy," the voice was oddly soothing. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," Dylan croaked, the room a blur. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

He felt his body being lifted and carried to another room. His back was chilled on a cold surface. Eyes cracked open, he found that he was seated in the bathtub. The shock of frigid water cascading over his body roused him from his stupor.

"It'll help with the nausea from what I could remember about first aid," Wesley sighed to his right. The vampire was seated on the floor, his back to the wall, one leg straightened. His hand rested casually on his other knee, bent to support his arm. And he was staring straight ahead, his eyes staring into the unknown.

"Where did you learn first aid," Dylan slurred.

"The War," Wes said with no emotion. "If you could call it First Aid back then. For most, it was Last Aid."

Dylan felt the sadness ooze out of the other boy in the room. He had seen so much in his life. There had great times of upheaval, great times of rejoicing. Just to see the things the vampire had seen...but at what cost? He'd seen his own mother deal with those issues, at first never knowing that her problems extended past 300 years. He often joked about how many years of therapy would be needed to get over 300 years of getting shit on.

The cold water felt good upon his skin and his stomach started to calm down. Wes reached over and handed him a water bottle. The vampire looked as if he hadn't moved but he had to in order to get him the drink. It was amazing to the think about the speed needed to do that feet.

"Drink," Wes ordered. "You need to keep up your strength. You'll feel better once you get some food in you."

"Will I turn into a vampire because you bit me," Dylan spoke before he thought.

Wesley got a good laugh with that one. He explained, first and foremost, that Dylan was already part vampire, so there was no need to change him. Second, in order to be changed, there needs to be an exchange of blood.

"Like Jenny," Dylan asked.

"Like Jenny."

"So, for me to get my vampire powers," he started, "I'd have to drink blood."

"Correct. But, what I neglected to tell your stupid sister-"

"Watch it," he hoarsely scolded. "She may be stupid sometimes, but she is still my sister. _I'm_ the only one who can call her that."

"Fine," Wes sighed. "I figured your apparently naive sister would have known about the affects of a half-lamia drinking for the first time. Just so you are clear, if you drink blood, you'll need it forever."

"Forever, _forever_," he asked, feeling stupid for the repetitiveness. "I mean, to survive?"

"Yes," the vampire smirked. "You'll still be able to eat the god-awful stuff you call food, but you'll need the good, liquid stuff to survive. Your body would change and adapt, new senses you could never possibly dream of would develop. At least, that's what I'm told. I've never personally been without my abilities."

Dylan thought about what Wes was telling him…he had more power buried in him? That was an amazing thought. The ability to run faster, jump higher, see and hear better was intriguing…but what would it truly cost him? His soul? To have to drink warm blood just to stay alive?

What price would he truly have to pay?

He turned to take a glimpse at Wesley. The vampire still remained seated, his eyes closed tightly. Dylan could sense what the other was feeling; Wes was feeling remorseful and _guilty_? What did he have to feel guilty for?

"Your food's here," he said, with out opening his eyes.

Wes quickly blurred up to his feet, nodding in his direction.

"See you around, kid," he said as he headed out of the background. "And tell you sister…"

"Tell her what?"

Wes left the room before he could finish his sentence.

Dylan could only make out small parts of the words between the two old 'friends' in the other room.

"….just make sure she doesn't come after…"

"…April needs to be protected…."

"….don't worry, it's taken care of…"

"…don't come back…"

And then the door slammed.

* * *

Dean sat outside in the Impala, waiting for his daughter to leave the last victim's house. Poor kid. Hell, poor parents. They were devastated by the loss of their kid. God, he couldn't even imagine what they were goin' through. He only hoped he never got the chance to know. His last wish was that he'd die before his kids. It was the only thing left that made sense in the world.

April appeared out of the doorway, turning around briefly to hug the dead girl's parents. The mother had tears in her eyes. The father looked like he was in shock or medicated, just going through the motions and comforting his wife. This fucking beast was gonna pay. Big time.

The passenger door opened, a solemn looking April sliding into the seat.

"You alright," Dean turned to ask, starting up the engine.

"I'll be fine," she muttered.

The car set off down the street, the only sound emanating from the vehicle being the roar of the engine.

"Find anything," Dean finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did," she said, pulling out a diary. "Apparently, she kept one in her underwear drawer."

"And?"

"Two weeks ago, Lindsay Minor, Kelsey Thomas, John Blake, Phillip Wheeler and Samantha Connor all went to the cemetery; the supposedly haunted one up the street."

"Wait those names sound familiar…"

"They're all dead, Dad, sans one: Samantha Connor."

"Our next victim," Dean replied. "So, all they did was a séance?"

"No. She said they knocked over a tombstone. The boys liked lifted it up and there was a hole underneath-"

"Just as I thought," Dean smirked.

April looked at him curiously.

"They pissed off a ghoul," he said. He explained to his own kid about the ghoul, a new supernatural being to add to her Encyclopedia of Weirdness. She asked if he'd ever encountered one before, in person.

That brought up bad memories. He had his share of scuffles with some when he was younger and in training, but it wasn't until he was older that he faced one that ended up being too familiar. And it had tricked him and Sammy good. With a sigh, he told April about Adam, his long lost brother, who also ended up being a pawn in two vengeful ghoul's plan to get back at John Winchester.

"Adam ended up being the ghoul, taking over his form. The real Adam had been dead for a while."

"So, you never knew him at all?"

"Just what the ghoul told me about him, and who knows if all those were even true. Poor kid," he said, pushing the memory of his kid brother's corpse back down. It was a vision burned into his retinas. "But, yeah, ghouls feast on the flesh of both corpses and humans."

"Well, obviously they prefer the other white meat," she joked. "God that was in bad taste."

"You get that sense of humor from me, honey," he chuckled.

"So, how do we take this bastard out, Dad?"

"Headshots."

"Oh," she said, looking away. "Dad, I'm not that great of a shot yet."

"You will be, don't worry 'bout that. I'll teach you," he smiled and then sighed, knowing what he was about to say next was awful for a dad to say. "I need you as bait tonight."

Funny, but she didn't look at him cross eyed as he expected. She nodded softly, her lips drawn into a tight line. April was scared, but she was willin' to do whatever it took to bring that asshole down.

She was becoming a true hunter…and it scared him shitless.

* * *

Abby sat in the living room with Cas. Jamie was upstairs doing his homework. Ruby was in the other room with Sam and god knows what was happening in there. Whatever was going on was being done in silence. She couldn't pick up on anything.

Cas had stopped by for dinner. Apparently, Gwen wasn't home and he had heard Abby was making French fries with dinner. Plus, he was truly worried about Jamie, a fear that was starting to involve the entire house. Well, all except for her son. He was unaffected. In fact, Jamie seemed more bothered by the fact that they were bothering him with questions about it.

"How's it been having Dean back," Cas smiled. She couldn't answer with words, so she just nodded and grinned from ear to ear. "I'm glad, Abby. Truly, you two deserve happiness."

"What about you? How are you and Gwen."

"It's--complicated," he answered.

She didn't want to pry, verbally or through his thoughts. Abby respected his privacy. That's when he sighed and began to speak.

"The human-vampire thing is difficult enough, but Gwen is gone a lot. Taking over your spot in the nest. And…"

"What?"

"Anna is back."

"Oh."

He sat back farther in the chair, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it beyond recognition. Castiel had never looked so disheveled.

"She's not _back_, back. But, she's around and…"

"Cas, I know you've always had a thing for her," she tapped his forehead. "I understand. However, as a friend of Gwen's, I think you need to figure out what the fuck you're doing and get your shit together. I don't want to see either of you hurt. You're both so…young in a way; first real relationships. Everyone is bound to fuck up eventually, but you really think about what you want. Ok?"

He smiled and nodded, patting the back of her hand.

A noise from outside the house drew both of their attention.

"Stay here," she whispered, her eyes meeting his wide eyes. "Shh…"

Abby blurred to the front door, keeping herself discreet and maintaining the element of surprise. She peeked out through the glass in the door. No one around. That meant they were fast.

With no sound, she flung open the door and slid onto the porch, crouching down in the shadows. Her eyes searched the distance. Nothing was moving, not even animals. It was very still…and very odd. Quickly, she zoomed around the house, making rounds. But still, nothing.

It wasn't until she came up the front stairs, feeling flustered, that she noticed the envelope.

She lifted it up, flipping it over and over in her hands.

_Abigail_

It was addressed to her.

Abby turned it over once more, her fingers skimming the surface of the red wax stamped on the envelope. The symbol was…familiar, yet she couldn't replace where she had seen it before. How peculiar that she couldn't; vampires were supposed to have memories of perfect clarity and recognition. Why couldn't she recall what the symbol meant?

Pulling up the seal, she slid out a letter handwritten with appeared to be the old standard of ink and quill. Funny how it was written in Spanish:

_Abigail,  
Es hora de tomar tu lugar legítimo._

There was no signature. No address. _Nothing._ She smelt the paper and found nothing significant, except the faint smell of…_lilac?_

"Abby, is everything alright," Cas said, peering from around the door and stepping onto the porch.

She quickly put the letter behind her back, shoving it in her back pocket.

"Yeah, just great," she lied.

Abby walked up the steps towards Cas, who was chivalrously holding the door open for her. She nodded to him and smiled, trying desperately to rid her mind of the words scrolled on the paper:

_'Abigail, It is time to take your rightful place.'_

What the hell did that mean?

* * *

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the open bureau in front of him. His wife sat up on the bed by the pillows, her knees pulled tight to her chest.

Her words still immersed his thoughts, his brain not quite making sense of them. But, they had been quite clear.

"Sam," she had said, no smile on her face. He had sat in front of her, taking her hands in his lovingly, stroking and kissing them. He had been so worried about his sick wife. Part of him thought that, perhaps, it was too serious. Maybe they should just head to the emergency room.

"No, Sam," she sighed. "I'm--I'm pregnant."

"Wh--what," was all he could say.

He wanted to throw up, choking down the bile that had risen into his throat. It was official; someone up there hated him. After just having that conversation with Abby--how could it possibly happen?

"Sam, say something," Ruby whimpered, tears streaming with every word.

But he couldn't speak. Once again, Sam Winchester had created another monster.


	14. Falls on Me

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/30/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

April kicked the dirt around the toppled tombstone, occasionally looking down at the time on her cellphone. It was dark, and she was 'alone' in the graveyard, screwing around with the same grave that had cost those kids their lives. Awesome.

She continued to violate the sanctity of the grave by sitting on it. Her knees together, her feet apart playing on the grass underneath, she took a quick scan of her surroundings. No movement. April wasn't sure of her dad's strategic positioning but she knew he wasn't that far away; she felt it in her bones. It was a very comforting thought. The overall scene, however, was bleak. The place was in shambles, a victim of its own lore. Teens obviously came by to see if the rumors of the haunting were true. Didn't they know most cemeteries weren't? These were resting places of souls who had lived and died. The monuments carelessly strewn about with garbage were the only tangible possessions left of the souls. It was for the clear intent of remembrance, and instead, these passed people were considered useless. No wonder the ghoul was pissed. She couldn't blame it for being upset. She could, however, blame it for killing. It was going to end before someone else got hurt.

That's when she felt the hard tug at her shoulders. As if outside of her body, she could hear her own screams echo as she fell to the ground with a thud.

Her head hurt and her vision was spinning. For a moment, she thought she was gonna be sick. When she could finally focus her sight, April could make out a bluish light square above. Had she fallen down the hole? That's when she saw the ominous shadow to her right. Nope, she hadn't fallen; she'd been pulled in.

"DA-," she tried to call out, her cry muffled by a meaty, wet hand over her mouth.

"Shh."

She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to look at the ghoul. Maybe it was the fact that she'd never seen one before, or maybe it was because she was nervous, but she knew looking at the thing would absolutely terrify her.

Her body scraped against the cold, hard ground. She gasped as the being dragged her around, delicate strands of her dark hair being yanked from her scalp. April couldn't help but yelp in pain.

"Shh!"

April had been scared before but never for her life. Not like that. And that night, there was no Wes to save her. But it was ok. If she were to go, it would all be for the best. Her dad would get down and kill the fucker even if she went with it. But…what if her dad needed help and she wasn't there?

No. She refused to think those thoughts any longer.

_'Stay calm,' _she demanded herself. _'You're in control. You're in control.'_

With that thought pounding, thundering through her consciousness, she pulled back at the creature, quickly followed by the thud of its skull crashing against stone. Scrambling to her feet, she ran.

April blurred back towards the luminous blue square in the ceiling. Her instinct was to scream for help from her father…but she couldn't. Once again, she found herself in the clutches of the beast, the sweaty palms gripping her body tight.

"Stay still," the gravelly voice demanded. April struggled. "I said stay still you stupid bitch!"

His warm breathe violated her neck, sending shivers of revulsion down her spine. She thought she was gonna throw up.

"You're young and fresh, not like the other ones," he sniffed through her hair. "No, no…you're…_different._"

April gasped as a sharp pain spread through her arm. Warm blood trickled from a wound, the knife shining below the flayed skin. Blood gathered on the blade, the red look obscene against the silver. The ghoul was practically moaning in pleasure as he brought the knife up to his lips and licked. She was going to throw up.

"Mmm…I was right…you taste good," he whispered. "I'm going to enjoy you."

The revolting touch of his slippery tongue on her neck almost sent her overboard.

_'Calm. Calm. Calm. Daddy is gonna come for you. Dad is going to save you.'_

But, Dad was no where around.

The ghoul grabbed her arm and squeezed the blood from her wound. She cursed in pain as he sucked out her blood; her lifeline. And then he bit down. Hard.

April cried out in pain, the timbre of her howl overpowered by the blaring of a gunshot.

The chunky hands slid from her arm and she tumbled to the ground under the force of his dead weight. She dared to turn and look at her attacker and regretted it almost instantly. The blood from the shotgun wound oozed out from his head…or what was left of it. To her surprise, the ghoul hadn't mirrored the body of any of the other kids. Apparently, the hobo who hung out nearby had also gotten in its way.

Other hands wound around her suddenly and pulled away from the grisly scene. These hands were different. Safe. Comforting.

"I'm sorry, baby," he choked. "I shouldn't have let you do this."

She tucked her head under her dad's chin, wrapping her arms around him, patting him on the back.

"It's ok, Daddy," she said, pulling back to look at him. "I'm fine."

"I had to take the shot, April. Are _you _ok," he asked, his eyes widening as he looked at her arm. "It bit you?"

"Yeah, but I'm fine, Dad," she scolded as Dean tore off the bottom of his t-shirt, wrapping it tightly around the open wound. "Seriously, I'm _ok_. Look, it's already starting to heal."

And to her amazement it was. The skin surrounding the open flesh was slowly binding back together. Thank god she was part vampire.

"You sure, you're -"

"Dad. Drop it. It's cool. Just glad you got 'em."

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arm protectively around her as he led her out the way he had entered. Strange sarcophagus-like tombs lay in state on either side of them, creating an eerie aisle that lead up to a set of stone stairs. One by one, they climbed to the top to find themselves in a mausoleum, the door already open, letting in the fresh night air. And it never felt better.

She smiled, happy to have had a hand in defeating the bag guy. April had to admit, she was pumped and ready for the next one. Her eyes sought her dad's only to find his filled with a different emotion. Regret. She could read Dean Winchester like a book...and she hated reading books almost as much as he did. He hated himself for putting her in danger. He never wanted to ask his daughter to lure a supernatural being. He hated the life he'd now passed on to her.

But _she_ didn't. April stood before him proud of her work. She stood as the true huntress she felt inside.

* * *

"So, are you going tell me what's in that letter," Cas said, taking a bite of pecan pie. "Mmm…this is so good, Abby."

"Thank you, I could give you the-"

"Back to that letter," he replied through the gooiness of the dessert. "Why did you hide it? You know I could see you pick it up."

"What letter," a voice asked from the front door.

Gwen peeked her head from around the door, her eyes searching for Cas' and she beamed.

"Hi angel," she smiled, hurrying into the room. Cas got straight up and pulled her into his arms. His lips met hers as his hands searched her body for injury. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I came home to your note. Though I'd stop by and surprise you."

"Well, it is a nice surprise. I missed you," he sighed, caressing her cheek with her thumb.

"Aww," Abby chuckled. They were so cute together. Anna or not, those two _belonged _together. They just…_fit. _And now, with Cas not having to age as a human, it was logical. It appeared that the non-aging was an effect of the being-touched-by-an-angel experience on the human body. Well, for the most part. Luckily for her, Jamie didn't have the same effects. She wondered if that was because he was part Lamia; one part of him counteracting the other. Dean, however, seemed to be somewhat effected. Sure he was aging…somewhat. But, he did still look the same as he did 10 years before. A little more worse for the wear, sure, but…besides a few new crows feet, he was almost identical. Add into the equation his current workouts and maybe he looked even better.

Gwen turned to her friend and before Abby could even stand, Gwen tackled her.

"Oh, and I missed _you _most of all, Scarecrow," Gwen laughed, doing her best Dorothy from _The Wizard of Oz_ impression. "Nice to see you back…sooo, are you back with Dean now?"

Abby smiled and nodded, causing her friend to squee with delight.

Cas plopped back in the recliner and Gwen quickly jumped onto his lap, accidentally kneeing him in the ribs in the process.

"So," he groaned while he patted Gwen's leg, "Spill the beans about that letter, Abby."

"What frickin' letter," Gwen asked again with animated frustration.

Abby sighed in defeat and pulled the envelope out of her back pocket. She sat it down on the coffee table and sank back, wishing the couch would swallow her whole.

Gwen raised an eyebrow and picked it up, bringing it to her and Cas. Cas immediately took it from her hands and examined the outside seal.

"What's going on?"

Abby twisted her head to see Sam and Ruby in the hallway. She could tell from their postures that telling Sam hadn't gone well. Abby patted the spot next to her and gestured for Ruby to have a seat. She made room for Sam on the other side of her and he took the hint.

Cas filled them in on what had occurred while he and Ruby were occupied in the other room.

"Is there anyone else who'd like to know," Abby threw her arms up aggravation.

"Mom, we're home," April said as she came in through the front door, followed close behind by Dean.

"Hi, April…uh, what happened to your arm," Abby said as she blurred over to her daughter's side.

"Nothin', Mom. Honestly, it's just a flesh wound. I'm gonna bandage it up right now," April kissed her mom's cheek and headed up stairs.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck and kept his eyes to the floor.  
_  
'Sorry,' _he thought, slowly raising his sad, repentant eyes up at her.

"It's ok," she sighed. "Shit happens, right?" Abby wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back. His arms touched her hips softly, restraining himself back to hold her. It was almost as if it was his punishment.  
"_She's_ safe. Y_ou're _safe. That's all that matters," she whispered, finally feeling his arms slightly restrict around her. He didn't argue or agree with her assessment of the situation. In fact, his mind didn't think of anything either. Instead, in order to block her, his mind sang the lyrics of a song:

'_Like the coldest winter chill  
Heaven beside you... hell within  
Like the coldest winter chill  
Heaven beside you... hell within  
Like the coldest winter will  
Heaven beside you... hell within  
And you know you have it still, heaven inside you'_

She pulled him back and kissed him sweetly on the mouth.

"Chill out," she whispered, and patted his butt. "Go grab a beer and come back in the living room. I'll be waiting."

"Yeah so will we," another sarcastic voice chimed in.

"Sammy, bite me," Dean answered with his middle finger in the air as he proceeded to the kitchen.

"Yeah, what he said," Abby smirked, jumping over the top of the chaise lounge, falling gracefully on top of it. Dean, beer in hand, returned almost instantly. He took a seat on the edge of the chaise, placing her feet in his lap. Normally, she would yell at just-returning-dirty-from-a-hunt-Dean sitting on the clean furniture. True, his boots were muddy, his white t-shirt spattered with blood, the rolled up sleeves of his gray shirt dusty as hell…but he never looked so attractive in his life. Why oh why were people at the house? He turned slightly and winked at her, causing her heart to skip. Damn, was she lucky…and _he'd _be getting lucky later, that's for sure.

"So, what's with the party," Dean drawled.

"Don't ask," Sam replied curtly. Ruby shrank. Poor girl.

Cas tossed him the envelope from across coffee table.

"What's this," he asked. Cas brought him up to speed as he had Sam.

"We're still waiting for an answer, Abigail," Cas demanded.

"Well I don't know what you want me to say," she replied, slightly more harshly than she should have. Dean rubbed her ankle, his thumb stroking the slight bony bump on the side. He looked at her questioningly. But what was she supposed to say? "It's a letter."

They all stared at her with harsh looks. _Fuck._

"It's a letter to me, written in Spanish."

Dean opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment, looking over it curiously.

"Well, I see your name, but fuck if I know what this says. Anyone else take Spanish?"

Gwen looked it over.

"Abigail," she read aloud. "It is time to take your rightful place? Abby, what does that mean?"

"I don't know," she cut.

Sam reached over the table and grabbed the envelope from Gwen's pale hands, waving the seal in her direction.

"What does this seal mean, Ab," he asked.

"I-Don't-_Know_."

"How do you not know," he questioned, his brows furrowed. "You've had to have seen it before at some point in your life, right? You've lived a fucking long time."

"Are you callin' me old," she growled.

"Just answer the question."

"No, _brother-in-law_, I do not know what it means."

"So, you've seen it before," Dean jumped in, his voice softer than the others. He really did know her best.

"Yes," she sighed in frustration. "A long, long, LONG time ago, but, I don't remember when _exactly_. And that still doesn't mean that I know what the fuck it is cause I don't."

"How long is long for you," Gwen joined in the inquisition.

Abby thought back to the time when she seen the odd symbols before. A pentagram. A slice of a moon. Waves. Suddenly, flashes came to her. The warm glow of candle light. Her head peeked around a corner into a room. She was sneaking out to rendezvous with William, peering around the doorframe of the parlor, looking at her parents arguing.

"Are we going to be able to hide forever, Ann," he father scolded. "Eventually, they will find us. They're too powerful. There's only the four of us."

He sighed in contemplation, running a weary hand through his long hair.

"Then the four of us will flee together as a family. Soon. We will prevail."

Ann walked, her long gown whooshing behind her. She stood regally in front of the fireplace and tossed in an envelope. The wax on the seal started to bubble almost immediately, but she could faintly make out the markings. A pentagram. A slice of a moon. Waves.

"It was hand delivered, Thomas. They're already here," she sighed before she sank down to cry. Thomas blurred to her side and held her to him.

"It will be all right, my love," he whispered.

As soon as her parent's were concerned with each other, she fled out the servant's entrance, heading like a ghost towards the town. But her mind was still on what had transpired in the house. Their shields had been up like a fortification. Usually her parents were so open…what was transpiring?

"Abby," Dean's voice brought her back. "So, that's where you saw it? Babe?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she said, wiping away tears that had escaped. "Why am I crying," she chuckled in embarrassment. "Was I talking out loud?"

They all looked at her like she was crazy. Of course she had been. Figures. She couldn't keep her thoughts to herself when she'd take a ride on the way-back machine in her mind. Damn reminiscing.

"You mentioned that douchebag that was molesting you," Dean said. "So that means you were 17, right?"

"First, it wasn't considered molesting back then, Dean. Lot's of people were having consensual sex with minors. Plus, at 17, I shoulda been married with kids already. And yes, that means I was 17."

"What do you remember after that," Sam pushed.

"Very little," she said, shocked at that realization herself. "It's really blurry."

"Well, it makes sense," Gwen said. "That had to be right before the…uh…you stopped aging."

She was right. It had to be a few weeks before at the most, she figured. When the Lamia decided to or were forced into ceasing the aging process, she had heard that the memory for that time became fragmented; the only time it would happen in the life of a vampire. Ironic that it would also be the exact moment she would need to resurrect.

"Well, I have an idea," Gwen said, leaning away from Cas and slightly off of the chair. "What if--"

Abby didn't like where it was goin'. She already knew what Gwen was thinking but she needed to hear it.

"What if I put you under hypnosis?"

Dean's hand tensed around her ankle, his eyes looking down at the floor.

_'No, absolutely not,' _his mind thought. _'She shouldn't have to relive any of that shit again.'  
_  
His mind was filled with hateful swears towards anyone who had ever put her in harm, himself included during a number of hunts that almost went wrong.

"I will totally be in control, Abby. You won't have to relive anything you don't want to. Ok," her friend reassured her.

Dean looked into her eyes, his own begging her not to go through with it. But, he was clearly relying on her to make the decision.

"Fine," she sighed. "Let's do it."

* * *

April sat up in her room, tapping her dressed wound like an idiot. It did sting but the pain was slowly subsiding with every sip of the warm liquid she had swiped from the basement. It was nice to be back in pajamas on her own bed.

With her back against the pillows, her knees to her chest, she finally felt at home. Comfy. Cozy. And, on top of that, she was feelin' pretty good about a successful hunt with a ghoul. Another notch in the belt. She'd have to remind her dad to take her out shooting at some point.

A rustling outside of her window drew her attention. She opened it, feeling the warm, summer breeze from the south. It was a beautiful night. The moon was almost full, its light shimmering off of the coin-like leaves of the tree rustling in the breeze. Nothing could be more peaceful…that was, until she realized she wasn't alone.

She looked around, her vampire eyes searching far off in the distance.

With a shove, she unexpectedly found herself on the ground, spilling the contents of her glass in the process.

"Shh," it whispered, placing a hand over her mouth. Her heart jumped initially, thinking perhaps Dad's bullet had missed the creature in the tomb. But no, she had seen it herself. There was no way it survived. And these hands were different. They caressed her lips lovingly and with care.

"Hey beautiful," he drawled.

"Jesse," she whispered, her eyes wide with surprise. "Wha--what are you doing here?"

"Shh…I'm here for you."

She raised her eyebrow curiously, wondering what he really meant. That was when she noticed he was lying half on top of her, his body slightly more chilled than her own.

"I missed you," he said, his lips close to her's.

"I missed you too," she chuckled lightly.

"I'm going to keep you safe, April. I promise," he smiled crookedly before pressing his lips to her own. The kiss was chaste and reverent; safe. Nothing like the kisses she had shared with Wes. There was a passion beneath the softness, but she doubted Jesse would ever claim it.

She fell into the feel of his arms around her, his lips upon her own. It felt right and yet…she felt like she was betraying someone. But, that was silly, she had never claimed to be anyone's but her own…and yet…

"Dude, you seem pretty cool, but stop makin' out with my sister. I don't wanna have to fuck you up."

Dylan was crouched on the window sill, obviously more winded than the vampire had been climbing the tree outside her window. He swung his legs into her room and sat in the moonlight looking more like a vampire than anyone she'd ever seen. But, that was silly. He would never, ever, ever, be as stupid as she had been.

"Hey, sis. Don't I get a welcome home hug," he smirked.

She blurred over to him, almost pushing him out of the window by accident. Quickly, she took hold of him and pulled him in the house.

Almost immediately, she grilled them both on how the hell they became acquainted. That was pretty obvious; off course it had to be by Wes. She held down the butterflies in her stomach by the mere mention of his name. Dylan looked at her peculiarly.

"Jesse is gonna be stayin' with us for a while," Dylan said, adding that it would be in his room. April rolled her eyes. Apparently, there would be no boys in her room with out any kind of supervision. That's what she got for having an awesome yet totally overprotective brother. Dad would be proud.

"Any reason why," April plopped onto the bed. "Honestly, why are you back here?"

"He meant what he said, sis: to keep you safe. Both of us will."

"And Wes," she spat, feeling more and more annoyed and hurt by his absence.

"He won't be joining us anymore," Jesse said, his eyes becoming more sad. "I'm sorry, April, but he was a traitor."

She was sure Dylan could feel her heart rip in two.

* * *

"Abby, Abby…wake up," Gwen coaxed as his wife screamed in terror.

Her hypnosis session had been a waste. It was full of holes and wide gaps in time. There was nothin' useful in knowin' her everyday life. She hadn't relived anything that seemed useful…and then she got to_ that_ night.

She'd been screaming for a good half-hour out of pain then anguish as she relived the moments that made her who she was. And, even though he wanted to run, Dean stayed by her side helpin' her ride it out.

"Gwen, get her the fuck outta there, right fucking now," Dean seethed next to his wife on the couch.

"I could if _you'd_ be quiet," she hissed back. "Abigail, on the count of three, you will wake up. One. Two. Three," she snapped her fingers.

Abby's bloodshot eyes finally opened, painfully slow.

"Hey babe," he whispered, smiling back at her, hoping she didn't hear the sad, unhappy thoughts playing in his mind.

"Oh, Dean," she sobbed, burying her head into his chest.

"Shh," he soothed, running his hand through her dark hair. "You're here now. You're safe, sweetheart."

"Perhaps if we delved more deeply," Cas whispered to Gwen, Sam and Ruby who were clumped together. They looked like a group forming a secret plan.

"No," Dean interrupted vehemently. "No. Fucking. Way. She's not doing it again."

"But, Dean, we didn't find anything out…"

"I don't fudgin' care! Ok?! I won't let you guys screw with her mind anymore," he replied, lifting her up in his arms. "Plan all you want. You're not gettin' at her again tonight."

He stomped off in the direction of their bedroom, tryin' to keep her from swaying at all when he plodded up the stairs. With a balanced push of the door, he carried her into the room and lightly put her down on their bed.

"You need somethin', honey," he sank down next to her, brushing the sticky hair away from her sweaty forehead.

"No," she whispered. "I just wanna be alone."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied, moving over her form to the other side of the bed. He wrapped an arm over her torso, leaning his head against his other propped up arm.

"Please, Dean. I'll be fine," she said in a monotone voice. "I just…I need a little time, ok?"

He knew what she meant, but he was still worried. Dean could remember back to the time when his memories from Hell practically took over his life. It had been Hell again…on Earth. That mental shit could consume you and he wasn't gonna let it take over Abby again. No friggin' way.

"Fine," he said, a little edge in his voice. With a squeak of springs, he was off the bed and heading out the door, back to the living room full of people. "Yell if you need me." Then he closed the door softly behind him. He couldn't help but feel like a douche as he heard her quietly sob in the growing distance.

"So what the fuck are you assholes planning," Dean said, looking from one to the other in the romo. "Come on, tell me."

"Dean, this isn't meant to hurt Abby. We're her friends. You know that," Cas started.

"But what does it fucking matter, Cas?! Ok, so she got one friggin' letter from some moron who left no return address. Doesn't exactly spell out problems for me," he paced. "And I know you're thinkin' about that seal on there. Could be anything. Maybe Abby's a little messed up and_ thinks_ she saw it and really didn't. You heard what she remembers. It was like fucking watchin' that one movie that goes backwards…what the fuck was it called? Sammy, you remember, you like shitty movies like that."

"Memento," Sam looked up towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, that crap. What she said made no sense."

"Chronologically, no," Gwen stepped in, her voice crisp. "But that's what happens during that time you stop aging. It's diorienting beyond belief. Believe me. Besides, there was _something_ going on with it. Apparently something involving her mother or both parents. Something that she wasn't completely aware of. She was too wrapped up in her own little teenage world. I think we can all look back on what morons we were back then."

Well, she did have a point there. He was sure there was a whole lot of shit involving his Dad and the search for Yellow Eyes that he wasn't really payin' attention to back in the day. Hell, Dad had even had another kid and he hadn't known about it. Dean had been way too consumed with the opposite and hotter sex. After all, who wouldn't be? Guess that included Abby…even though it was a long, long, LONG time ago. Who woulda though she was even frisky back then?

"That being said, something was going on," Cas said.

"He's right, Dean," Sam agreed. "She may not have known everything, but there was stuff going down around her."

"Ok, so what if there was! Doesn't look that harmful right now," Dean snapped. "It was _one_ fucking letter. Big whoop."

"Not just one."

All five of them turned towards the voice coming from the bottom of the stairs. Abby appeared, her face void of emotion. In her hands was the bag she brought with her on the hunts after she took off on her own.

Slowly, she made her way to the table. Abby held the bag and turned it over, unceremoniously dumping out its contents.

Their eyes were wide with surprise as letter after letter fell with soft crinkles of paper onto the table top, all of which had the same ominous seal.


	15. Two Steps Behind

* * *

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **04/30/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Abby sat on the front porch, her dangling feet skimming just above the wooden planks. She took in a deep breath, reveling in the cleansing warmth of the night air.

Her head hit the siding of the house with a thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. She was trying her best to drown out the chaos from inside the house.

As soon as the letters had hit the table, she could hear a jumbled array of thoughts.

An oh so eloquent _'Are you fuckin' kidding me,' _from Dean.

Two _'Why didn't you mention these before,' _from Gwen and Cas.

A good amount of unintelligible expletives via Sam's thoughts.

And poor Ruby was still too overcome with her current situation regarding her pregnancy and her husband's rejection to the situation.

All Abby could do was stand there and drop the bag on the floor.

"Abby," Dean started, his eyes glued to the letters. His voice was stern, his body taut. "_Where_ did these come from?"

She didn't really know where they came from exactly, her realization enlisting a combined groan from the group. Abby wrapped her arms across her chest defensively.

"Well, it's the truth, guys. I started getting these randomly."

"When," Sam sternly questioned.

"About a week after I left, maybe a little sooner. I woke up one morning to find the first one slid under the door of my hotel room. A couple days later, one was on the windshield wiper of my car. Then another came with a bill from a diner I ate it. Others were more random. On the room service tray, on a towel in the hotel room...but I don't know _where_they came from," she shrugged. Everyone else in the room was looking pissed, most especially Dean.

"How come you never told me about this, Ab," he scolded. "One letter, sure, it coulda been a random thing, but a whole freakin' pile of them? And IN your room? I'd call this a pretty big, flippin' deal!" He shifted from one foot to the other, trying his best to keep his temper at bay. She had to admit, he was really, really _really_ trying...but she knew him. "I thought we said no more secrets."

_'Ouch. That hurt.'_

"That's _why_ I'm telling you all now. I didn't think it was that meaningful before...or maybe I just didn't care at the time. I was having my own issues," she sighed. "But look, there they are. Take a look at them if you'd like."

The five of them picked one apiece and took a look through, each one of them taking their time. Each said the same thing, each in a different language. But each also contained a tidbit of information about Abby herself. Dean's was in Italian, Sam's in Gaelic, Ruby's in French, Cas' in Portuguese and Gwen's in German. Gwen interpreted them all easily; it was the same saying on the newest letter.

The team sat down at looked over about four more that she had gotten, all in different languages. They were interesting to say the least.

"These are really peculiar," Cas said, his brows furrowed as he shuffled through the open pile of notes in his hands. "And these things about you...this one about you, when did that event happen to you?"

"When I was sixteen, maybe fifteen."

"And this," he waved another letter in her face.

"Seventeen."

"And this one?"

"Seventeen."

"So, it had to be someone that knows that information from back then. But who would know that?"

"Demon? Vampire? Something somebody told another? Another hunter perhaps," Ruby joined in.

"Any vampires that knew me back then are dead. Marguerite and Pedro were the last ones that I knew were still around from my time in St. Augustine and they died years ago...and they didn't communicate with others. They were very private."

"So you have no freakin' clue who or what it could be from," Dean chimed in.

"No-pe," she replied, emphasis on the P.

"You sure," he replied, a sharp tone in his voice. She had to admit, his thoughts were really starting to get on her nerves.

"I'm sure," she responded as politely as possible. "And if you'd excuse me, I'm going to get some air."

It seemed like the best solution; to step back and gather herself before continuing.

"You're not leaving yet," Dean said, grabbing her arm lightly as she started towards the door.

"He's right, Ab. Stay here," Sam insisted.

"Don't tell her what to do," Ruby said. "Let her leave for a while."

Oh boy.

"You," he pointed at her. "Don't start with me tonight. I'm not in the mood to get into it with you right now. Go somewhere and rest."

"No," she snapped back, standing up to her husband. "You're just being a big jerk because you're mad at me."

"It's because I care about my sister in law, Ruby."

"Well, you sure as hell don't ask the same about me," she yelled.

"Can we all just calm down," Cas tried to soothe. His plea was met with harsh looks. Gwen rolled her eyes and cuddled up next to him, telling him to ride it out for a few more minutes.

"No, I'm not going to stay calm," Sam shouted, throwing up his arms. "Something is after my sister in law and other than that, my life has just turned to shit tonight, ok?"

Ruby ran off into the other room, tears in her eyes. The slamming of a door wasn't that far behind.

"Nice, Sam," Abby hissed. "Way to be supportive!"

"Abby," Dean warned.

"No, Dean. He's being a complete ass about Ruby!"

"Hey, it's _his_ problem if he knocked her up," her husband answered.

Nice, Dean.

"Ruby's having a _baby_," Gwen squeaked in surprise.

Oops.

Abby was pretty sure Sam's head was gonna explode.

"Thanks," he hissed at Abby. "You can't keep your fucking mouth shut for two minutes, can you?"

"Whoa, Sam. Back off," Dean said, stepping protectively in front of her.

"That's it, I'm goin' outside," she screeched, trying to pull away. "Dean, let go of my arm."

He wasn't budging.

"What's going on," April said as she ran down the stairs, followed close behind by Dylan and...a friend of his?

"Whoa," Dylan held his head. "Christ, you guys are pissed off. Can you guys just turn down the rage for a minute. It's really hurting me."

With that, Abby yanked away from Dean and headed outside to the front porch.

Abby could feel Dylan using his power to calm the room, even from outside on the porch. It seemed to be working. Everyone was starting to get quiet. That was good.

"Hey," a voice said. The porch swung slightly as he sat down beside her. "Sorry I yelled.

She quietly nodded.

"I'm just worried about you," he sighed deeply. "I--I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions," she turned her neck towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," he smirked. He took her hand in his own. "I just love you, Ab."

"I love you too."

"So, we cool?"

"We cool, G," she nodded, putting her hand out for a fist pump. Dean laughed and leaned over to kiss her.

"You're a dork," he chuckled, patting her thigh. "I know it's late, but I think I might go take Sammy out for a beer…is that ok?"

"Since when do you ask permission to do anything," she smiled at him. "You're mister 'I'll never be whipped,' remember?"

"Pssh, who said I was askin' permission? I just think Sammy needs a night out, ya know? Don't worry, I'm stayin' sober. I'm not gonna get into another car accident. Do you mind stayin' here and watchin' Ruby?"

"Not at all."

Dean also asked if she minded if Gwen and Cas stayed over for extra security. Of course she didn't mind…but now with the Jesse kid staying over as well, it was gonna be a packed house. He left with a rather pissed off Sam tagging along. As the Impala roared out of sight, Abby finally let out a sigh of relief.

"Why are you still lying," Gwen said, suddenly at her side on the porch swing.

"You read the letter, Gwen. I figured only you'd be able to read Gaelic."

"Why didn't' you speak up? Why didn't you say something to Dean," Gwen asked.

"Don't you think he's freaked out enough, Gwen? I--I don't want to lie to him. I don't, but he'll take this to the extreme…you and I both know that."

"Regardless, he needs to know that his daughter is mentioned in the letter, Ab. She's his responsibly too; don't put this burden on just yourself. If he knew April was mentioned, don't you think he'd pushed for you to figure out what happened when you were young?"

"That's what I'm afraid of, Gwenny."

"But if it helps you and your daughter," her friend said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "Abby, I'm worried. You know me, it takes a lot to freak me out. This. It freaks me out. That was ancient Gaelic, Ab, not just your run-of-the-mill Gaelic. Whatever we're dealing with is old and that means powerful. We need to figure out who or what our target is and take it out."

"And how do you propose we do that? Hypnosis didn't go so well from my side," Abby sighed, pulling her legs up onto the chair with her.

"Well, Cas suggested something intriguing. He doesn't know if he could get anyone to do it; he's got maybe 2 angels that could help."

Angel involvement. Couldn't be good.

"All that stuff was happening around you. What if--what if Dean goes back?"

"Go back," she raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punch line.

"To that time."

Abby looked at her friend, trying her best not to start crying from the hilarity of it all. Dean....in 1730? There was no freakin' way that was going to work. And the clothes? Oh, well, she _tried_ not to laugh.

"Gwen, hun, that is _not_ going to work."

"But if he could keep an eye on what was going on when you were around, or your family, perhaps we could track down whatever or whoever sent that letter."

Made sense in some weird, out-of-this-world way. It was just really, really outside of the box. But something triggered inside her; some deep memory from her past. Something that had triggered the first time she had seen Dean in that strip club years and years before. His eyes. Even before she gotten a good look at him, she knew his eyes were green. And then there was James. He had totally freaked out when he discovered her in an apartment alone with hunters. After they had left, he had paced her apartment, giving her the evil eye.

"I don't like them," he had hissed.

"These are different."

"Just as those boys were before in Florida? I'm telling you Abigail, I don't trust these guys…especially the shorter one."

His hatred for them had been automatic, which was odd even for James. It was as if he knew them…recognized them? But…how?

Now she knew. It was already planned; no matter how much she kicked or screamed, they were both going back to her world…and she was scared shitless.

* * *

Dean took a sip of his beer as Sam slammed back another shot.

"Dude, you should probably slow down. I don't mind ya crashin' at our place, but I swear if you puke everywhere…"

"I'm fine," his brother hissed, motioning for the bartender to pour another.

"Cancel that," Dean waved at the barkeep. "He's had enough for now."

"I don't need you to babysit me, D-ean."

"Oh, Sammy, you so do," he chuckled, peeling the label from his beer. "Look, dude, I know what you're goin' through, man. You're upset and confused…scared…yeah, I remember."

"I just can't believe," he stuttered. "How the fuck could this happen?!"

"You're a little old for me to be telling you this, but when a man and a very hot woman," Dean stopped, smirking at his brother, who rolled his eyes in response. "I'm just fuckin' with you, Sam. But, yeah, if you didn't wrap it before you tapped it, you shouldn't be surprised."

Sam put his elbows on the bar, balancing his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do Dean…after all this crap goin' down with Jamie…now I have another…_thing _I created? I don't know what to do."

"Sammy…I know it's scary. I didn't know what the hell I was doin' when those kids first came. For months, I was freakin' out…not so much in person but inside, I'm sure Abby knew how scared I was. Hell, she was scared too. I'm sure Ruby's the same way. Do you know she thought you were gonna think that she did this on purpose," he laughed awkwardly, taking a drink of the brewski.

"Well, I gotta admit, the thought did cross my mind, Dean."

He looked at his brother like he was having a brain aneurism.

"What are you smokin, Sammy," Dean wiped his mouth. "You are outta your fuckin' mind. Ruby wouldn't do that."

"She's been barking up that tree for a while, bro," he replied. "I just---how could she…"

"No, how could YOU be so stupid. If you didn't want a kid, there were things both of you coulda done differently, alright? You know, I wasn't mad at Abby for getting pregnant; you know why? Because we both did nothing to stop it. We fucked around a little, BOOM, babies on the way. So don't you dare blame your wife for that…and if you do, then maybe you shouldn't be married."

"Dean, come on--"

"I'm totally serious, Sam. You--don't resent the person you care about, alright? Haven't we both had enough of that shit to last several lifetimes? Family is fucked up Sam. It's hard for everyone and you love them no matter what. Push comes to shove, you may shove back a little, but it doesn't change who they are inside. You of all people should understand that."

Dean patted his brother's shoulder and smiled.

"Cheers bro. Welcome to joys of soon to be parenthood, Sammy. It's the craziest shit you'll ever face in your life. Believe me, there's nothing more terrifying than a toddler who doesn't get there way. But, if you need anything, I'll be there to back you up. K?"

Sam turned to him a little and smiled slightly.

"Thanks Dean. You're a good brother…a GREAT brother," he slurred.

"Dude, you're so wasted," he laughed. "What kinda brother am I to run out here and get you drunk when you have a pregnant wife at home waitin' for you to apologize?"

"I am an _ass_," Sam slurred. "

I'm just so worried that it'll turn out…ya know." He pointed to his eyes and then down to the yellow menu on the bar.

"Sammy…my advice? Don't worry about that shit. Love that kid. I didn't know what to expect from mine either but look, they're normal, healthy, happy kids. That's all you can do. I know you'll be a great Dad."

"Thanks, man," Sam said, wrapping his arms around his brother. "You're a good brother. You've always been awesome."

"Too tight, Sammy," Dean laughed trying to pry his brother's vice grip off of his shoulders. "We should get you home."

Dean helped his brother back in the car and headed towards home. Before they pulled out of the gravel filled parking lot, Sam was out. His head was against the window and he was already snoring…loudly. Poor crazy kid.

He wished that he could reassure him more, take him into the future and tell him "Dude, look, everything is alright." But, that had to make him wonder; had he done everything he could to make sure his kids were alright? The more and more April's proud face appeared in his mind, he felt more and more like a dick. Because, if they grew up to be hunters, it couldn't be alright…could it?

* * *

April curled up into a ball under her blankets, quietly crying to herself. Wes--why did he? He just toyed with her. That's all it was. But, if it was only that…then why did it hurt so damn much?

She felt herself slowly, so very slowly, drift off to sleep.

Then she was running through the woods, searching for something; no, searching for someone. Whoever it was needed her and they were lost. She was the only one who could help them.

Without warning, she ran into something very solid.

"What's the hurry, sweetheart," it drawled.

Her eyes snapped up to the figure, thinking she had found what she was looking for.

"Jesse," she asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," he said, helping her up. "Your brother is like a warden. So, the only way I could see you is in your dreams. So, hi."

"Hi," she smiled back, taking his hand in her own. She couldn't help but feel a calm presence with him. He was a humble, gracious soul...and he looked at her as if she held the same virtues. Hardly. April may have been those things once, but now she was a hunter. Many times, mercy was just out of the question. The things she faced were just that; things. Not like her. Not like Jesse or her mother. No, they were more like…

"Are you alright," he asked, his thumb caressing her cheek. "God I've missed you." His smirk warmed her heart. It was pure and real, with no hidden malice or intent. His lips, his eyes, his touch was only displaying what they intended. Love and care. Devotion.

She squinted her eyes, pushing her heartache down to her toes as hard as she could; a trick her own mother taught her when she was little.

"Force it out," she had whispered after she had gotten a bad grade on a drawing in art class. "Let it all out, and what's left, force it down to your toes."

True, she had thought it was silly at first because how could you push something out of your toes. But, to her surprise, it had worked. So, there she was…almost eighteen pushing her unhappiness down to the floor.

It was going to take a while for her betrayal to go away, but for now, a simple act of kindness and care would help.

"I've missed you too," she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his own.

* * *

"You could have stopped it, Abby," he sobbed, pointing at the tombstone in the distance.

"Stopped what," she screamed back her brother. "Who is that?!"

Even with her vampire eyes, she couldn't make it out. But, it had to be someone both of them knew, for James was too distraught.

"You need to stop it, Abigail," he said, tears streaming down his face. "You need to stop it."

"Stop what?! James," she yelled after him as he began to walk away. "James, you get back here and tell what the fuck I have to do this instant!!"

But it was too late, he was gone and she was alone.

"James," she yelled.

She felt around herself, finding only the bed, before falling back into the comfy confines of pillows and covers. Her body was tense and her mind went over the images in her nightmare. But, what good would it do? It wasn't as if this was the first time James had angrily confronted her above someone's death she could have maybe stopped. Ever since that afternoon on the beach in St. Augustine, it had become a nightly occurrence.

It had become a problem, with her sitting straight up, shaking. Dean had almost been accustomed to it. Before he'd sit up with her, asking her about the details. If he were home at that time, he would have pretty much stayed asleep with his hand occasionally rubbing her lower back warmly. She'd push him away and roll him over, letting him get some much needed, my deserved rest, while she wrote down clues. There was still nothing that would help decipher anything of significance.

Abby pulled her bare legs up to her chest, feeling her sleep shirt bunch under her arms as she rested them on her knees.

"God, I wish Dean was here right now," she sniffled. It wasn't that she couldn't handle herself or her fears; she could. Hell, she lived through Dean's death…she could live through anything. But, there was something that struck a cord that evening. Perhaps it was all the commotion earlier in the evening causing a case of frazzled nerves. But whatever it was, she needed her husband. She needed to confide in him that she was scared.

Softly, she tiptoed out of bed, checking the upstiars bedrooms for reassurance. April was warm in her bed, one leg out of the blanket like she normally did. Dylan was in his room, laying peacefully in his bed, fast asleep on his stomach. Jesse, whom she could tell was the vampire April had been pining for, was passed out on the floor looking particularly ethereal in the moonlight. Jamie, her little boy, wasn't in his room.

She continued softly down the stairs, pitter pattering on the hardwood, immediately turning left to the guest bedroom. Ruby and Jamie were both asleep in the extra bed, their presence obviously resting to each other. Smiling, she closed the door and headed to the living room. Cas and Gwen were alsepp on the couch, Gwen resting peacefully on top of Cas, his arm on her back, his other hand on her head. Abby smiled and placed an afghan over the two of them, happy to see them happy. Hopefully Cas wouldn't go and fuck up an incredibly good thing.

With a warm sigh, seeing that her broad…well most of them, were safe, she headed to the kitchen for a late night 'snack.'

"Hey beautiful."

She jumped at the voice.

"Someone's jumpy," he smirked from his seat at the table.

"_Jesus_, Dean. Warn me next time," she said, trying to control her breathing.

"S'orry," he chuckled as his face went from happy to concerned. "You ok?"

"Just a little out of it," she answered, slightly irritated.

"Bad dream?"

She nodded.

"Wanna talk about it, Ab?"

"Nah," she hesitated. "Same old thing. Nothing new to talk to you about. Don't worry 'bout it."

"You sure," he drawled. She nodded. He motioned for her to come to him and she took a seat on his lap. His arms wrapped around her and she felt safe. It was as if the dream never happened. Why oh why couldn't she just live the rest of her existence wrapped up in his presence?

"Where's Sam," she asked, finally realizing he was the only one not in the hosue.

"Passed out in the car. He's too big for me to drag his ass back in here. Don't worry, I cracked a window," he smirked.

"But whoever left those letters--"

"Already called Lenore. She put extra people out around the house. They're on guard. She's pretty pissed you didn't tell her what was goin' on…you know, you being her best fighter and friend."

He was right; she should have let her know what was going down. After all, threats against her were also considered threats against the nest itself.

"Sam's gonna be ok," Dean sighed, patting her thigh. "He's a little confused and lost, but once he gets his head outta his ass, he'll be fine. I mean, how cool is this?"

"What do you mean," she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Not too long ago, we hated Ruby, remember? She was nothing but a crazy bitch helping my brother be crazy. But now…that's she's human…she's pretty cool. And, she's always been good to our kids. Outta guilt or responsibility I don't know, but she's been a nice aunt. And now, we get to be the cool aunt and uncle to this kid. It's awesome."

"I guess," Abby sighed, running a hand through his hair, messing it up.

"Come on. Once Sam realizes that's a kid and not a monster, he's gonna be excited. I mean--god I hate admitting this cause I sound like a puss--but it might be nice to have a little squirt around again."

"Are you serious," she chuckled, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck.

"Well, I missed a lot of the other ones…and there was never just a…I don't know, happy time I guess. First me with the Crossroads deal when you were pregs with the twins, then the way Jamie was…you know. We never just had a 'hurray, you're having a baby' time. It would be cool for Ruby to get that time. Plus, you know you're dyin' to throw her a shower."

Dean knew her way too well. Sometimes she wondered if he was the one with the psychic power and not herself.

"I mean, I know we can't have another one. Gotta admit, a few years back I thought 'wouldn't it be cool to just have one more?' But, then I thought no. We're a family the way we are; let's not push it. And I know you can't because of that deal with the angel's after Jamie. So, I was happy just the way we are. But now there's gonna be another little Winchester and he's gonna have the greatest family."

"And the most amazing, caring, totally handsome Uncle," she whispered, kissing his cheek. "You're cute when you get excited about this kinda stuff."

Abby sighed into neck, feeling her own heart clench. She had known Dean had thought of those plans before; about another baby. And she had felt terrible that she couldn't' give him what he wanted. After Jamie was born, part of the contingency to get him back from the angels was for the angels to make sure she couldn't bear children again, thus preventing another incident like Jamie. So, for the sake of her newborn son, she agreed. There was never a time that she regretted her decision.

And now Dean was almost smitten with the idea of a little crawling, cute thing again…and it made her sad.

As if sensing her building distress, Dean leaned his cheek against her own, his almost uncomfortably warm against her chilled skin.

"You're gonna make the coolest Aunt ever, Abby. We're gonna take that kid everywhere, fill him or her full of sugar and then send it home to the folks. Revenge is pretty sweet."

"You are _cruel_, Dean Winchester," she tried to sound mean, but ended up giggling as he tickled her sides.

"Wanna get to bed," he kissed her neck.

"Yeah, I'm tired," she yawned. "And I'm finding it most difficult to sleep without you by my side, mister."

"We'll fix that…right now," he smiled slyly as he quickly stoof from the chair scooping her up in his arms.

She made sure to remind him that there were plenty of sleeping people in the house, sans one. Becky had gone home at the request of her parents. That was fine, as there was already a full house.

Doing his best not to cause creaks, he carefully carried her up there stairs, as she tried to stifle her giggles all the way up. Finally, they reached their door, which Dean lightly pushed open with his food. Part of her missed the days where he'd hurriedly break into rooms, breaking the door with his foot. Abby had to admit, she was in love with that hunter part of him. She loved Dean's softer side, but…oh god, when he would fight…her brain would shut down.

All too gently, he put her down on the bed before rolling over her and pulling her back to his front.

There would be no friskiness that night; they were both too exhausted. And, that was fine, they needed their sleep.

Wrapped up in his arms, she felt safe and knew no bad dreams would dare penetrate.

As she was falling aslepe, she felt Dean shift and kiss her shoulder.

"Oh, Ab. I forgot to mention…Cas mentioned his idea to me."

"Regarding," she asked, playing dumb.

"That whole astral thingy that he did to me before…making me Marty McFly and sending me back again. I just wanted to let you know, that if we can find this bastard, I'm up for it. But don't worry 'bout anything. It's just an idea. G'Night, babe."

"Night."

After that, she didn't sleep one bit.


	16. Enter Sandman

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"Momma?"

Abby stirred slightly.

"_Mom?_"

"Hmm," she grumbled, her eyes opening and trying to focus on what or who was talking to her.

"_Mom?_ Can I talk to you?"

Her eyes snapped open.

"Jamie, sweetie? What's wrong," she yawned.

"Can I talk to you," he calmly whispered.

It was odd for her youngest to come into her room in the middle of the night anymore. After all, he had made it quite clear since his last birthday that he was not a kid anymore. Abby knew better.

"Sure," she smiled reassuringly. "Just let me get up." Abby tried to move, only to find Dean's arm constricted around her.

"You're not goin' anywhere," he grumbled. With a groan, he lifted himself up, resting on a bent arm. "I'm up, so might as well talk about it. What's goin' on, kid?"

Abby scooted over, shifting Dean in the process, and made room for her son on the edge of the bed. Jamie plopped his rear on the mattress, his hands nervously together.

"So," Dean asked again.

"I saw him again," he whispered, glancing around the room.

"Which one, Jamie? Zac?"

"_No _the man...and the boy. The man was looking for the boy but I told him to hide in the closet. I don't mind the boy. He's nice."

Abby could feel Dean's arm tense even more around her. Now their son had revealed a third person he was seeing. Super.

"Don't worry, dude, we'll take care of 'em. Any idea of their names, Jamie," he asked his son.

"The man is, um, Jeremiah...the boy is Ezra. You're not gonna get rid of Ezra, are you," he asked, concern plainly written on his young, innocent face.

"Why," Dean pressed, sitting himself up a little straighter.

"I like Ezra. He's nice and he likes to talk and play with me. We're the same age. I don't like Jeremiah _at all_, Dad. He's shot in the chest and you can see it. It's pretty gross."

"How does Ezra look, sweetie," Abby smiled reassuringly, running a hand on her son's head.

"He looks ok, but he always complains about being cold. His lips are kinda blue."

Great. Gunshot and most likely death from the cold. With names and types of deaths, the two bodies should be relatively easy to find in the town manifestos. Now, with the new info, it would be easy to take care of the problem in the morning. Nice and easy. Then everything can get back to….normal.

"But I _like_ Ezra! He's nice and he _needs_ me," Jamie sighed, pulse quickening in Abby's ears. "He _needs _me to keep him away from Jeremiah! If I don't help, Jeremiah is gonna _get_ him!"

Jamie's eyes were frantic, as if he was desperate for Dean and Abby to understand him. Boy, did they get it, more so than he probably could ever possibly fathom.

"Honey, calm down, baby…you do know Ezra is...no longer living, right," Abby asked, brushing dark hair out of her son's eyes. "He's gone sweetie. His family is gone. He's not meant to be here."

"But, I still want him around. He's my _friend_," he begged. His tone and eyes broke her heart. He was being completely, gut-wretchedly truthful.

"Baby, don't you think his Mommy misses him? Do you want him to be stuck here with out his family," she prodded, wanting desperately to get through to him that it wasn't a bad thing.

"No," he sniffled. "He does miss his Mother and sisters. But, where are you gonna put him?"

"Son," Dean sighed, rubbing his eyelids. "We don't know what happens. But, it's not cool or right to let him stay here. He's dead, man. Poor kid's been walkin around alone and gettin' chased by a crazy guy for a long time. I'm glad you helped him, Jamie. That's really cool of you. And it's cool that you're not scared of him."

"I just wanna help him, Dad," Jamie stuttered.

"Well, then we'll help, kid," Dean smirked. "But, are you willin to let him go to help him?"

Jamie sighed, his eyes contemplative, his fingers playing with the drawstring of his plaid sleep pants. He was thinking deeply, which was asking a lot for a pre-teen. After a few quiet moments, her son turned his head to her, looking more and more like a young, sad Sam.

"Can I at least say goodbye," he asked.

She thought she was gonna cry.

"Sure, kid," Dean said, giving her a quick squeeze. "This is really awesome of you, Jamie. I think you're right about now being a kid anymore."

Jamie wiped a tear from his eye, sitting up straighter with a smile.

"Yeah," he asked, his voice a little lighter.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

"Ok, thanks," he smiled.

"You wanna sleep in here, kid? Crash on the floor," he offered their son.

"Nah, I think I'll be ok to sleep in my room. Thanks though," he smiled before skipping out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him.

"And Jamie," Abby said loudly, causing her son to reappear, his head peeking around the semi-open door. "You don't have to take crap from the man either. If anyone bothers you, ever, just tell them to leave you alone. Just yell, go away and leave me alone. Ok?"

"Ok. Thanks Momma," he smiled, closing the door behind him.

"Our baby is growin' up," Abby chuckled sadly. Dean grazed her hip with his hand and kissed her cheek.

She felt proud of her son as she fell back asleep.

* * *

Dean woke up, feelin' like he'd been hit by a bus. Don't drink at all for a while and a few beers smack you in the face. Damn his low tolerance.

With a smile, he rolled over, only to find his wife not in bed.

"Babe," he said, his voice gravelly. "Babe?"

No answer.

He told himself not to panic as he pulled on a black shirt that matched his sleep pants and headed down the stairs.

"_No_, Cas. That is still a _terrible_ idea. I haven't changed my mind," he heard her arguing downstairs.

"Abby, _please _listen…if he goes back, he can investigate what was going on _around _you. He can track this thing down!"

"Who's to say it's the same damn thing, Cas?! Just because it's the same symbol?!"

"What if Dean could compare the handwriting on that letter, Abs," Gwen chimed in, her voice pitchy with emotion.

"Mother burnt it."

"He could get his hands on it _before _she burns it, Abby. Why are you so against this," Cas shouted.

_Wow_. That was a first. Well, not the _first_ time he'd witnessed a P.O'd Cas, but it had been a damn long time. Only Abby could piss an ex-angel off that easily.

Dean sauntered into the kitchen to find Cas, Gwen and Abby on opposite corners of the room looking pissed. Ruby was at the table, quietly eating oatmeal. No sign of Sammy.

"Mornin' babe," he smirked at his wife. "Where're the kids?"

"School," they all said at once.

"Didn't ask for an answer in surround sound," he joked. "So, Ab, I was thinking about Cas' idea," Dean said, gradually approaching her, trying to use his best look to persuade her. From the annoyed scowl on her face, it wasn't working.

"Read my lips, Dean Winchester. N. O. No. Fucking. Way," she practically purred.

"This is to protect you, dumbass" he said, a little more meaning in tone.

"I don't need it," she argued, venom dripping from her words.

His wife could be really, fudging infuriating sometimes. An honest to god pain in the ass. Part of him wanted to walk away, pissed off at his stupid girl…but, Bobby's good 'ole speech ran through his mind. True, he had kicked Dean's mental ass because of Sam, but it was now true with his wife; after all, she was now family: '_You stupid, stupid, son of a bitch. Well boo hooo I am so sorry your feelings are hurt – Princess. Are you under the impression that families are supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family.'_

"Well, listen, chick. If I say we're doin' it, we're doin' it," he said, standing his ground and refusing to back down to her. "I'm standing my ground and we're gonna help you."

Abby's eyes slit.  
"Oh, _really_, big shot," she smiled, taking a step closer. "There's just one _little_ problemo."

"I can hog tie you if I have to," Dean smirked.

"Tell him, Gwen," Abby said, looking over at her friendover Dean's shoulder.

"We have to put her under complete tranced hypnosis for it to work, so she won't freak out as the memories are re-discovered. It's for her safety. If she won't agree to that, then it'll hurt her, Dean."

He twisted his gaze from Gwen to Abby, a look of smug success on her face.

"So, you're gonna be a complete bitch and not let me help you?"

"Yep."

"What are you so afraid of, Abby," he asked, and she flinched. "Oh my god. Is that it? You're afraid of me seeing you back then? Why? I know _everything _you did. Skanking around with a married man, getting preggers…I know it _all _and I ain't judging you for that. So, what is it?"

From the look in her eyes, he'd hit the nail on the head. She _was _scared, of what, he actually wanted to know. He thought they were done with the secrets between them. Shit, she'd told him all about her dark and smutty past; what the fuck could be worse than that?

"_Fine_, if you won't say anything, I'm just here to say there's nothin to be scared of, Ab. Honestly."

"This is _meant _to happen, Abby," Ruby said, her mouth full of oatmeal, causing Dean to turn at her revelation. _'Meant to happen?'_  
"We both know this. You're just delaying the inevitable. Much like the waking up of my husband--well, speaking of the devil."

Dean looked into the entry of the kitchen to find Sammy, up and lookin' like shit.

"Coffee," he groaned. Dean motioned with his head to the counter. "Thanks."

Sam grabbed a cup and joined in the merriment. Cas and Gwen filled him in on the plans, and for once, he agreed with the ex-angel.

"Why not, Ab? If it already happened, what do we have to lose," Sam asked between sips.

"Doesn't mean you can't still get hurt," Abby yelped, her voice sharp with panic.

"Hey, hey," Dean said, his eyes trying to soothe her own. "It'll be ok. I promise."

She didn't look remotely convinced.

"Look, I hate to rush this," Cas said. "But if we're going to do this, now is the best time; when the kids are gone. We don't want to scare them. Just give me the word and I'll summon her."

"Her who," Gwen asked, her eyes suspicious.

"Anna."

Great. The old fuck buddy angel was comin' to visit with the wife. Beautiful.

"How--how long will it take," Abby asked, her voice shaky. Dean walked over and placed an arm around her shoulders.

"It will be as if no time passed for yourself, Abby. In reality, an hour at most. Could mean weeks to months on that side. If it doesn't take that long, maybe a few minutes at the least. I can't tell you concretely. So, are you willing?"

Abby's sad eyes met Dean's. God, he loved her black eyes…and he never thought he'd say that after all the black-eyed demon sonsofbitches he ganked in the past. But hers were a warm black; ones he could sink into. And they were sad. Very, very sad.

"Yes," she whispered, her lips turned up into a sad smile. "I agree. Call Anna and let's get this over with."

Dean gave her a reassuring smirk and squeezed her tight against him. That was his girl. He knew she wasn't just gonna give up.

"Get Anna here and let's go," Dean told Cas. "I'm ready."

"So am I."

Confused, Dean turned to see his brother standing at his side, ready to jump on board.

* * *

Abby laid in her bed, her arm draped gracefully over her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the arguing from the other room.

"No, Sammy, you are stayin right fucking here!"

"Dean, I'm _not_ letting you do this alone! You got to go back and see Mom and Dad. I'm going on this one."

"Stop your bitching. This is a _mission_, Sam. Are you ready to do this? Especially after reacquainting yourself with Jose Cuervo last night? Come on, man. Just sit this one out," Dean ordered.

"_No_. I'm not letting you do this alone. You're going to need someone to keep you out of trouble. Dean, the 1700s? Do you know anything about them?"

Dean was silent, his mind going through the list of things he could recall from high school history class: Revolutionary War, some fruity tea party, Declaration of Independence, President _Benjamin Franklin_?

_'Dean, Dean…you are so toast,' _Abby thought, trying to fight the laughter brewing.

"I know enough to get by," Dean snapped back.

"Come on, Dean. Don't be a dick. Just let me come with you," Sam said, exasperated.

She could hear Dean breathing heavily.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "But we do this my way. K?"

"Sure, whatever," Sam said, slight amusement in his tone.

She heard their footprints walking in tandem towards her room, followed by the creaking of the wood door.

"You ready," Dean solemnly asked.

"No," she muttered. "But it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Anna's here," Gwen said, pushing her way passed the boys and into the room. She was followed by a beautiful red-head. That must be Anna. "Now or never, hun."

Abby did her best to stop from shaking. She was truly terrified. Through her life, she'd been kinda thankful not to remember that time in her life in its completeness. It had been a relief. And now…it could mean her very existence.

"Dean," she said, holding back her emotion. "Do one thing for me?"

Dean walked over to the bed, sitting down beside her, his hand to her cheek.

"What babe," he smirked.

"Don't piss anyone off," she said and he laughed. "I mean it. There were no gun laws back then. Everyone had a gun or sword…daggers. I used to have one in my garter actually. So, be careful what you say and who you say it to. Be as polite as possible at all times. Ok?"

"Ok. I'll do my best."

"Good," she sighed. "Oh…and, I have one more request."

"Well, geez, what else now, _princess_," he teased, and she smacked him in the arm. "Ouch, you don't remember your own strength do you. _Christ_."

"Sorry. But…just remember, I'll be seventeen; the same age as your daughter."

"Wow…that's the worst turn-off ever."

Sam laughed heartily behind his brother, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

"What I mean is…just…be careful with me, ok? I mean, I may look the same, but I'm not the same girl."

"Hey, I'm just goin' there the keep an eye on you, not put the moves on you," he smiled, kissing her forehead.

"Well, good. I love you."

"Love you too, babe. See you on the other side," he smirked before moving off the bed and leaving the room.

"Don't worry, Ab. I'll watch him," Sam walked over to squeeze her hand, before turning to leave.

"Well, watch your ass too, Sammy. Be good," she ordered.

Her eyes shut with the closing of the door. She could feel the bed sink in as Gwen sat down beside her.

"They'll be fine," an unfamiliar voice chimed.

Abby opened her eyes to the angel, who was less angelic than she thought she'd be. Then again, that girl had also slept with Dean. That in and of itself was particularly discontenting.

Gwen explained the process. She was going to put her in a deep trance and, once under, Anna was going to set the boys back in time.

"Are you sure you've taken care of every detail," Abby asked Anna. "There are many things to consider before sending them back to 1730-"

"Please don't worry about that, Abigail. Gwen, Cas and I have already discussed the parts necessary. It's all been taken care of. Right now, your job is to relax and let Gwen guide you to unconsciousness. You'll be perfectly fine…and I will immediately bring them back if they are in any real danger. You have my word," she smiled.

She nodded to the angel in agreement, hoping the girl would keep her word. Funny that she could even question their loyalty. But, after some like Zachariah, she had to keep the what if in the back of her mind.

Abby made herself comfortable in bed in her favorite cotton pajamas, surrounded by the softest pillows and covered by a soft white blanket. She had to admit, she could use a little sleep. Her poor head hadn't turned off all-night.

Gwenny sat beside her, looking particularly calm. Although she knew she was in good, trained hands, Abby was still nervous. Who wouldn't be after the last incident? But Gwen knew what she was doing. After all, she was a skilled witch, a good one, as well as an outstanding hypnotherapist and parapsychologist. She had the degrees to prove it.

"Alright," Gwen began, her voice as smooth as silk. "Close your eyes, Abby. Let the darkness take you in. You're relaxing . Feeling more and more relaxed as I speak…"

_'Hey, she's right.'_

For a moment, the darkness behind her eyes seemed like an endless amount of black space. It wasn't disconcerting like death…no, it was peaceful.

"In front of you, there is a small glimmer--a ball of light. See it in front of you. A pinpoint at first, growing larger and larger, it's light emanating outward…"

A small ball of light did appear. It was a whitish-yellow, as iridescent as a pearl. It appeared quite dim at first, before it became larger and larger until it was about the size of a bowling ball.

"Now the light changes to red. The color of a rose. Watch it change, Abby. Stare deep into the center. With each color change, you fall deeper and deeper into your own subconscious mind…"

_'How beautiful,' _she thought, wanting to go closer to it.

The red reminded her of the soft dress she wore that night.; the night of the dance in St. Augustine. The last night of a family appearance in public all together. She could smell the different perfumes and almost sense the flicker of the candles around her.

"Now the light changes to orange. Orange like tangerine…"

An image appeared in her mind. An orange. She was laughing with her brother on the beach, peeling an orange in her hand. The spray of the water caressing her face.

"Now it shifts to yellow. Yellow like the…"

_'Sun. Like the sun.'  
_  
It was like the sun the day it burned her flesh as a child. The burning, searing pain that yellow caused. She didn't like yellow.

"Now it changes to green. Green like the…"

A vision came to her of running through the forest, giggling, with Nathaniel Allen at her heels. She, of course, was running like a wounded fawn, holding back her own speed because she wanted to be caught by him. After all, he was hunting her for her heart. She squealed as he grabbed her, bringing her down onto the cold, dewy, luscious green grass and kissing her passionately.

She could feel his lips as if he were right there.

"Now it changes to blue…"

_'Blue like the waves lapping on shore. The calming salty waves of the sea. In and out, in and out, endlessly on to the shore.'_

"Now it shifts to indigo…"

The deep indigo blue of Caleb's tie at the dance hall where they first met in 1935; that night when the orchestra played a new instrumental by . _"A Kiss to Build A Dream On."_Her mind had already shifted to violet, surrounded by the soft, purple color. It engulfed her, wrapping her in a sense of awe and wonder…and calm. The color slowly faded to a field of violets. An endless field of swaying flowers and tall grasses. It was heavenly.

Happily, she laughed and spun around until she collapsed in the soft, grass bed.

_'Maybe I'll just rest here for a while.'_

* * *

Sam sat next to his wife as his brother leaned against the wall, closest to the stairs. Dean was anxious. He hoped it was more for their own upcoming adventure than his wife's relaxing journey. Abby was just taking a pretty long nap. Hell, he could use one of those.

With a sigh, Sam reached over for Ruby's hand. He squeezed it, and to his surprise, she didn't pull away as she had earlier in the day.

That morning, after he woke up, he had apologized to her, telling her what a sorry, pathetic ass he'd been and that he shouldn't have taken it out on her.

"You're damn right you shouldn't have taken it out on me," she'd spat back angrily. "You know, I may be a bitch sometimes, but I'd never be that heartless. I'm not a demon anymore, Sam."

"I know. I know," he had sighed. "I know that and I'm sorry. It's just…sometimes…I'm not sure about myself…or our kid…"

And then he let it all out. All his foreboding feelings and misgivings about bringing another child of his DNA into the world. Poor Jamie was going to have it hard enough with all the angels spying on him. And…now their kid? The kid of two people, post-demon?

Ruby let his words soak in through the day but continued to distance herself from him slightly. That was fair enough after the way he had acted the previous evening. But, the simple act of finally letting him hold her hand seemed to heal the wound a bit. And it was good.

Footsteps sounding down the stairs broke his attention from his wife.

Gwen and Anna both appeared at the bottom by the banister.

"She's out," Gwen said. "And she's in deep. I'm going back up there to make sure she'll be ok, but you're in the clear with her. She's in her happy place."

"Ok," Dean said. "Let's do this."

"First," Anna stepped in, " We have some potential issues we have to resolve before you both leave."

"Such as," Dean asked, eyebrow raised.

"Think about it, Dean," Cas said. "Clothes, language, demeanor, looks--it's all gotta change to fit in back then."

"And how are you guys gonna change that in a few minutes," Sam joked, standing up next to his brother.

"My money's on pixie dust," Dean joked.

"First, language," Gwen said, handing them each a long silver chain with a green stone set in antique silver. "It's Chrysoprase. It helps make good decisions when it comes to speech. You know that whole think before you speak jazz? It came because of this stone. I've also enchanted it with a spell…a speak and understand any language spell. By the way, I took a little hair from both of you as you slept. My bad…anywho…once someone speaks to you, you will automatically be able to speak in their native tongue. Couple that with the stone, and you should pick up on their habits as well. Well, at least to them you will..."

"Um…to them?"

"Well, I tested the spell with Cas around and, my thoughts were still the same but the words came out differently."

"How so," Dean inquired, a smirk already building from the burn in her cheeks.

"Well," Cas smiled, his eyes sheepishly to the floor. "I spoke like people did in the past. And then she asked if…"

"If what," Sam asked.

"If I'd like to seek carnal relations in the Winchester's powder room."

"Wasn't as clean in my _mind _as it came out," Gwen said, her eyes down.

"Dude," Dean said with his hands out in front of him. "You didn't…you know…do that in my downstairs bathroom, did you?"

"No, no, no…we didn't do it anywhere, Dean. I promise," Cas smiled.

"So, just remember, boys. It'll interpret your thoughts to the best of your ability, but some words, like 'cool' will be interpreted differently in that time. Oh, and Abby was wearing a shielding medallion back then, courtesy of her mother…so she won't hear your thoughts at all. But, try to really think before you speak."

"And what about when we talk to each other," Sam asked.

"You'll sound the same. I put a limitation on the spell; that's why I needed your hair. To everyone else, you'll be speaking, Spanish, Olde English, what have you, but to each other, you will be hearing what the other is actually saying. It's kinda like a filter that each of you will have."

Anna stepped in and reminded them that it was imperative for them to really think before they spoke.

"Gwen put something else into her spell and the charms…a translator so to speak. Some words and phrases won't make sense during that time like 'Oh that's so cool,' will just sound like 'well, my, isn't that just frigid,' " she laughed. "So please, _please_, choose your words wisely. And for all that's holy, watch your temper and what you say. Abby was right, it was pretty cutthroat back then. Everyone had guns and dueling was still popular. So, please, _please_--"

"We'll be fine," Dean cut in. He hated being told what to do.

"And finally, clothes," Gwen smiled.

"Clothes," Sam and Dean asked in unison.

Gwen smiled slyly as she skipped away, leaving Anna stifling a giggle and Cas just shaking his head.

"She went shopping," he laughed.

Gwen skipped back with some bags of…_costumes_?

"Here," she said, handing each a garment bagged hangers. "Go change."

"Um…you got these from Jake's Costume Shop," Sam laughed as he read the label. "How authentic are these?"

Gwen admitted that they were slightly off, but from doing research on costuming at the time, those were the closest she could fine.

"No. No way am I going back looking like a gay pirate," Dean complained, tossing the unopened costume onto the couch. "I'll just go in this."

"What, and get hung for being a warlock," Ruby said, an eyebrow raised. "It was pretty cutthroat back then, Dean. I'd rather be a live gay pirate than a dead one."

With a huff, Gwen argued that it was the best she could do with the time constraints.

"It's not elaborate, Dean. It's just a linen shirt, pants, vest, boots and hat. Seriously, this is modest compared to what I could have bought you; I was half tempted to make you wear heels, Winchester."

Cas loudly chuckled and squeezed Gwen to his side. Sam could swear Anna looked…_jealous_? Odd.

"Alright, that's enough.," Anna said sternly. "Go change and we'll begin."

With a huff, Dean hesitated and grabbed his outfit, slamming the downstairs bathroom door in his wake. Sam rolled his eyes and went into the guest bedroom.

Once dressed, He straightened out sleeves and pants. The outfit wasn't _that_ bad. He figured it was the jeans and t-shirt of the time. Interesting enough. It was a little itchier than he expected and the hat was less flattering than it looked. He couldn't understand tri-corner hats anyway, but, he had to admit, he looked every bit the part of a 18th-century sailor.

Once he stepped out of the room, he did his best to stifle his laugh. Dean was already in the room, looking totally uncomfortable in his new clothes.

"Rob the Quaker Oats guy," Sam teased, finally getting back at Dean for making fun of him in colonial attire years before.

"Shut up, Sam."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Enough," Anna interrupted. She quickly turned to Gwen. "Go upstairs and put the Chyrophase and pearls by Abby. Sit by her. Ruby, would you please go with her."

Ruby nodded and headed towards the stairs, stopping halfway there to stand before Sam.

She looked up at him, brushing his cheek with her hand.

"Be careful," she ordered. "Don't fuck up."

"I won't," he promised before bending down to give her a light kiss.

They lingered momentarily before she took Gwen's hand and headed up the stairs to Abby and Dean's room.

"Don't worry, boys. They'll all be alright," she acknowledged each of them, including Cas.

"Maybe…maybe I should go with you guys," Cas hesitantly suggested. He was giving off a very nervous vibe. That wasn't very encouraging.

"No, Cas. You are meant to stay here," Anna said, giving him a small smile. She approached Sam and Dean, who took a deep breathe. "Alright. Remember what we told you. Try, TRY, to be polite, Dean. I know it's going to be hard."

"How do we get back," Sam asked, realizing they'd never actually spoken about that very important aspect.

Anna explained that, once they got to a certain point, a certain crossroads in time when the purpose of their expedition would change or become obsolete, that they'd come home.

"So we're talking, weeks, months," Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. I've spoken to Abby and I know when to send you, but I'm not sure how long you'll be in that time. Either way, it will be no matter here. Ready," she took in a deep breathe, approaching them both.

"I guess," Dean shrugged, looking over at Sam. "How 'bout you Sammy?"

"Let's go," Sam said.

Anna reached up and touched both of their foreheads.

There was a bright white light, then suddenly, it was gone.

Sam looked over at Dean, who appeared awfully confused.

"That's it," Dean sighed, turning around to look at his surroundings. "I don't remember being zapped anywhere…where the fuck are we anyway?"

"Dean, mouth," he scolded.

"Go fuck yourself, Sammy. So--we're in an alley? Doesn't look _that_ old. I swear, if this is a trick to dress like pricks and send us to the gay district, I'll be pretty pissed off."

Sam turned and looked through the other end of the dark alley, out onto the sunny street. No, the light shined on a newly paved cobblestone street. People walked by dressed in fashionable colonial attire, speaking fluent Spanish. Funny thing was he could actually understand what they were talking about.

Horse hooves sounded from all around them.

"Holy shit," Dean quietly swore. "Sammy, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."


	17. Here We Are

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"Shit Sammy, are you seein' what I'm seein'," Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean."

He rubbed his eyes again, sure he was on some sort of hippy drug trip. Stone streets? Buildings made of some kinda shell shit? Horses? Chicks wearing clothing from head to toe?

"What are we going to do," Sam asked.

"How should I know," Dean snapped back, confused as hell by what he was seein'. Sure, he knew where he'd be going, but to actually be there, was a completely different story.

"Well, you've done this before," Sam snorted. "What's next?"

"It's not like I went back to the frickin' dark ages, Sammy. I went back to the freakin' 70s," Dean pushed his brother back against a stone wall. Once he realized what he was doing, he backed up. "Sorry. Wouldn't want to mess up your awesome outfit."

"Very funny," Sam sneered.

Dean thought a moment, and decided they had nothing to lose. Just treat it like any other case. Besides, Cas had been pretty blunt that nothing they could do was gonna change the present.

"These things were meant to happen, Dean," he'd warned beforehand. "Even if you try to change events, it won't matter. What happened to Abby was meant to happen."

Both he and Sam hesitated a moment before taking a step forward, out of the dark, dingy alley and out into the sharp, blinding light. Damn the Florida sun. It was even hot back then.

"Shit, it's hot, Sammy," Dean whispered to his brother.

"Box your ears, Thomas," a woman told her son, giving Dean the evil eye. "Such rakes in this colony!"

Dean looked at Sam, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Rakes," he asked his younger brother.

"Um, I think it means, immoral people, Dean."

"So, why didn't they just say jerks?"

"Stop swearing."

"So, jerk is a swear now, Sam?"

"Dean, I don't know, but let's not take the chance."

Fine. He'd stop. Even though the hats they were wearing were a tad fruity, he was happy to find that they did do a pretty good job of keeping the sun out of his eyes. And _boy_was there sun. Dean didn't remember it being that humid before…and he just remembered a very important fact; air conditioning wasn't invented yet. Not good. No tv. No cars. No Zeppelin.

He reminded himself to yell at Abby later for gettin' them into that mess.

"Dean--look across the street," Sammy hesitated, taking a big gulp.

Dean wiped sweat from his brow and searched the direction his brother's eyes were glued on. Out of a doorway stepped an elegant woman. Smoking hot was actually the phrase he was searching for. She wasn't tall, not even for her time, but you could tell she had a body to die for underneath all that annoying clothing. Her lips were full, her face defined, and her eyes were…_wow_. Her eyes were almost as dark as her hair, and both contained slight shades of blue.

"Wow…nice find, Sammy. She's…_her_ mother?..._Holy_...," he stopped himself, because the world seemed to stop around him.

Next out the general store, a sharply dressed young man escorted an elegant young woman on his arm. She was light; completely radiant. So there _was_ a time when she practically glowed. Her heeled feet skipped on the stone path, her escort trying to keep her balanced, but even he couldn't hold back his smile. The girl with him oozed happiness. Her hair seemed darker back then, but somehow shinier, almost like a spectrum in the light. He had never noticed that she had some slight stripes of blue in her hair. Her eyes were the same. Light could not penetrate those deep black pools of obsidian.

Her laughter was as light as music and the people took notice. That girl had apparently always been a head turner no matter what century it was; Abigail always had a way of grabbing attention. There wasn't one male on the walkway that wasn't looking at her...and Dean wanted to punch their lights out.

"Abby," her male escort scolded, pulling her protectively towards him. "Please walk nicely."

"Oh, James, perhaps you could stop being so overprotective," she smirked playfully back at him, before turning to bat her eyes at some young males across the street. The boys automatically turned, shy at such a bold advance from a woman.

"Abigail," her brother hissed. "That's quite enough. It's not intelligent to draw that much attention to yourself."

_'Damn straight,'_ Dean thought in agreement.

James looked...different. He had deep circles under his eyes and the poor guy looked like he hadn't slept in a long time. Then it hit him as he remembered James' story; his wife and daughter must have passed not long beforehand. Poor guy. The guy could be a dick sometimes, but no one deserved to go through what he went through. Dean didn't want to imagine what it was like. After losing people that meant the world to him, it was obvious James just didn't want to lose his sister. Her recklessness was keeping him on edge. But she was young, and like most seventeen year olds, she was stupid. He had two at home to compare it to. Well, and he hadn't been the brightest teen either.

It was funny that no matter what she was wearing or how old she really was, that she literally took his breathe away and made him nervous. She was the only girl he'd ever known that had that effect on him, and he still wasn't sure if he liked it. That girl had a lot of power.

"Dean, you ok," Sam whispered as they meandered on the cobblestones across the street.

"Yeah, man, I'm good. We need to talk to them though. To keep an eye on them. How are we gonna do that? I don't wanna be a creeper," he smirked up to his brother.

"We need an opening to go say hello," Sam said.

Right then, Abby's mother tripped and dropped her boxes. Bingo.

Before he knew what he was doing, Dean had darted across the street, somehow managing to avoid getting hit be some horses.

"Dean," Sam yelled after him, obviously with the intent to warn him what he was doing was stupid. Too late.

He scrambled to pick up the wrapped packages, stumbling a bit to hang on to them.

"Here ya go," he smiled at her, as he handed them to her. James quickly swiped them from his hands, checking on his mother.

"I'm quite alright, son, thank you. And thank _you_," she smiled back at Dean. "I very much appreciate your quickness to come to my aide."

"Not a problem," he answered, putting his hands in his pockets. He felt Sam at his side, a little late after having to find a way around the horses that Dean managed to avoid. His brother elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Honestly, thank you. I'm Ann Stuart," she smiled, curtseying.

_'Great, time to meet the folks...finally,'_ he thought with a smile.

"Um...I'm Dean," he said, before feeling he'd made a big mistake. "Dean Smith"

Smith seemed like a pretty ambiguous name.

"Ah, English," her mother smirked. "As are we. Nice to meet someone else from our homeland. Many here are, obviously, Spanish."

"Dean? What a _peculiar _name," Abby jumped into the conversation.

"Abigail, mind your tongue. That is not polite," Ann scolded.

"Well it is," she pouted. So, the whole 'no filter from head to mouth' wasn't just a new thing. Good thing to know. And apparently, from knowing April, it was a genetic defect.

"Please excuse my daughter, Mr. Smith. I think it's a fine name," she smiled up at him. "Oh, and I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself to you, good sir." Her eyes were now on Sam's.

"It's alright. I'm Samuel Townsend," he bowed to her, and she curtsied in return. Sammy was such a bitch.

"This is my son, James," she pulled him to her side. "He lives in his own estate near to our own."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he greeted them. "And, my regards for coming to my mother's aide."

"And this," she continued on, "Is my daughter, Abigail."

Dean's chest actually began to tightened and he felt butterflies in his stomach. It was the only thing that held him back from just pulling her into his arms.

"Pleasure to meet you both," she curtsied.

"The pleasure is ours," Sam cut in, bowing respectfully. Suck up.

"Hi," Dean greeted, his brain completely at a loss for words.

Her eyes searched his and he felt that he should look away, and then she winked at him.

_'Abby, Abby, Abby..._you_ were a big flirt,' _he smiled at her, not shying away from her gaze.

"So, being British, what brings you to St. Augustine as opposed to a British colony," Ann asked.

"The weather," Dean smirked. Abby laughed, before being scolded yet again. She straightened up but kept on biting her lip to hold back her giggles. Typical girl.

"When did you arrive," Ann continued with the polite conversation, motioning for them to walk with her family.

Sam butted in, and told them that they'd just literally gotten off the boat. Nice. It would definitely help to explain his own air-headedness; months at sea would do that to you. Right? He was sure he looked like a dumbass to all the other folks around. Sam went on to make up a story about them being friends who wanted a new life and that they both were needed in the city. Sammy decided that they were both teachers. Abby laughed about a Dean being a _dean _of students. Ha ha. But, if they couldn't find anything, they were gonna go on their merry way.

"Did you already make arrangements for your living quarters," Ann inquired, her eyebrow raised.

"No, actually, we haven't," Sam answered. "We figured we'd just find the local inn in the town."

"Good luck in your quest," Abby muttered, causing her mother to roll her eyes.

"What my sweet daughter means by that is, the inns are surely all filled by now. You, good sirs, came during our most popular event. We have a lot of guests that show up for our yearly festival and dance. I'm sure the visitors and sailors have all but taken all the rooms."

"Great," Dean sighed. "That's awesome."

The three people from the 18th century gave him an odd look. Guess sarcasm wasn't readily used yet.

"I'm sure we'll be able to find some place," Sam smiled.

"Nonsense," Ann smiled, "I have a simple solution. Why don't you nice young men come stay at our home? We live closer to the coast outside of the city walls, but I assure you it's safe. Besides, we have an extra room now that James is on his own--"

"Mother, may I have a word," James pretended to smile, pulling his mom aside, leaving Abby with the two Winchesters.

"It's nice to see some new faces in town," she started, apparently not shy.

"Well, it's nice to be here on land," Sam lied. "And in a town with apparently beautiful ladies." Again, with the flattery and chivalry? If he was barking at Abby, he was barkin' up the wrong freakin' tree. He reminded himself to punch Sam in the nuts later on.

"Well, thank you, Samuel," she smiled back at him. Damn those pouty lips. There she was again, flirting, but this time it was with Sam. Funny how little crap like that could bring back some powerfully shitty memories.

Dean cleared his throat loudly, intentionally breaking their eye contact.

"So, your mom says you live close to here," Dean asked.

She nodded and pointed toward the water, explaining they were closer to the inlet on the opposite side of the southern fort and that they could see the Spanish Watchtower.

"Are you two planning on attending our little gathering tomorrow night," she smiled, her eyes glinting with excitement.

"Dancing is not really my thing," Dean shrugged.

"There's free food," Abby glanced up at him beneath her thick black eyelashes.

Dean's head snapped up to Sammy's. Was he _positive_ she couldn't read their minds?

"We'll accompany your family if it's alright," Sam answered her question.

"Fantastic," she said happily. Her mother and brother suddenly appeared beside them, making no sound. Damn sneaky-ass vampires.

"It's settled then," Ann smiled, as her son clenched his fists in frustration. He apparently was against the whole plan. "You will be staying with us, if that is what you so desire."

Abby smiled slyly at Dean. Oh, yes. That is what he so desired.

_'Dude, you're on a case. Remember, you should be paying attention,' _he reprimanded his inner porn monologue.

Sam was apparently, doin' his job and doin' it well. He kept up with the conversations as they walked down the sunlit stone street to their carriage as well as scan his surrounding for anything out of place. Dean could barely take his eyes off of Abby. In turn, James continued to scowl at both of them. It was oddly reassuring to have him back again, alive, even if he was still not trustworthy. But, James had given him the job he was now trying to do; he was taking care of his sister.

At first glance, James seemed like a jerk. He had a prickly disposition and it rubbed Dean the wrong way. But, the more and more they had discovered about each other's pasts, they had developed respect. And, anyone who could live with Abby for that long with out leaving her in a ditch from her mood swings should be up for sainthood. He was dead serious about that.

With James driving the carriage, the party left towards the Stuart residence. Dean took in the scenery. It was definitely more sparse than the quaint tourist trap he was used to. Where they were currently, now a shopping center, was then dunes of sand with swaying sea grass, peppered with an occasional house. It was an amazing transformation. Slowly emerging from the other side of a dune was the top of a house. Well, more like the top of a mansion. It was much bigger than all the other houses in town. Figures, since he already knew they were loaded with money.

Abby looked back at him, smiling slightly. Was everyone positive she was blocked from using her power? Sure as hell didn't' feel like it.

It wasn't too long before they pulled up to the house. James hopped down first, helping his mother and sister out, giving the Winchesters dirty looks in the process. His gaze always had a 'don't fuck with me' look to them.

"Welcome to our home," Ann said as they made there way inside.

What a house.

It had an awesome main staircase, it reminded him of the one in "Gone with the Wind." He ended up watching it one night when he couldn't fall asleep at a hotel. Wasn't bad.

All the furniture seemed big in size. Was that the way they measured up back then? My dresser is bigger than your dresser? Not as fun as their way.

He and Sammy got the grand tour. It was nice. Not too over the top yet still classy and somehow cozy. Reminded him how their house was at home. Home.

_'Don't think about it man. Concentrate on the here and now so you'll have a home to go to.'_

"And your room," Ann gestured into a rather large bedroom. It had one large bed and a chaise lounge with other furniture spread all around. "I apologize about the view," she continued. "You get the West, so you do get the sunset."

"We don't mind," Dean smiled. "It's nice enough for you to give us any place to stay."

Ann informed them of where their rooms were if they were needed, and where their servant Megan was also staying. She was one of those indentured servants; Abby's parents had paid for her to come to the New World, she was paying with a few years of servitude. After she was all paid up, she asked if she could stay and work for the family. From the way Ann was speaking so highly of her, you could assume she was part of the family.

"Perhaps I should stay the night, Mother," James proposed, loudly enough for the boys to hear. "I believe it would be better for everyone if I did."

"Now, James, we'll all be fine. Just go to your house," she smiled, kissing his forehead. "I love you son, but you need not worry so much."

With a slight smile to his mother and sister, and an intentional gaze of suspicion to Dean and Sam, James left the home. Dean was pretty sure he'd be back.

* * *

Sam and Dean headed up to their shared room after dinner, though the family had already 'eaten.' It was funny the stories the went through to appear human. They tried, but he could tell. It was the grace in their movements. It seemed to show most of all in Abby. The way she skipped and pranced around the house was somewhat ethereal; nothing like it was in the future. By then, she'd learned to control her body. Both he and Dean were both used to the move humanized version.

Once in the room, Sam lit a few candles before he laid back on the chaise and Dean hopped onto the bed.

"I called it first Sammy. Ha ha," Dean chuckled, putting his arms behind his head. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait till they're asleep, then go snoop," Sam sighed.

"Oh sure, that'll be easy in a house full of vampires. Genius, Sam," his brother rolled his eyes.

"Well, they have to go hunt sometime, right," he mused. "So, we'll wait till they go hunt."

"We don't even know if they got the letter yet, dude. I think it'll be a waste of time."

"Well, we should at least _look_. Who knows? There could be a bunch of clues lying around."

Dean's eyes kept shifting towards the doorway.

"Don't you even think about it," Sam warned.

"Think about what," Dean quickly averted his gaze.

"About this Abby. _This_ _Abby_ is not yours. I know it's probably hard to look at her here, but this Abby was _way_ before your time."

"I know," he sighed. "She hasn't changed physically at all...well, except for her scars. Dude, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought."

"Well, just keep in mind, if you want to keep her safe, _you_ gotta stay away," Sam sighed, putting an arm over his eyes.

Dean muttered that he was so tired that he was about to crash.

"Do they have alarm clocks, Sammy," Dean asked…seriously.

"Go to sleep, Dean," Sam laughed. "We'll sleep in shifts. I'll wake you up soon."

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

According to the tall, standing clock, two hours had passed and Sam was quickly drifting off.

_'Stay awake,' _he ordered himself.

The sudden sound of shuffling in the hallway made him awaken. He kept his breathing stilled as the sounds moved down the stairs and out the back door. He snuck a peek out the window to see three blurs heading to the woods.

Good. They were going to hunt.

"Dean. _Dean_. Wake up," Sam muttered, kicking the bed from the chaise.

"What do you want, douchebag," he mumbled into his pillow.

"Get up. They're gone. Time to go explore."


	18. Why Me

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Dylan restlessly tapped his fingers on the old, wooden school desk. He couldn't figure out why, but he was having a bad day. Something was not right. He could _sense_ it. And, the problem wasn't in school.

Well, that wasn't necessarily true. School was becoming extraordinarily tedious. Because of the excessive absences bothhe and April had from the previous months adventures, they were both doomed to suffer yet another year of high school at the end of the current semester. It was honestly becoming unbearable. And it would be, if it wasn't for Becky.

_'Do you mind stopping with the tapping, Dyl?'_

His head turned slowly to his sister, who was seated on the opposite side of the history classroom.

_'We're not supposed to use this in public, sis. You_ know _that.'_

_'Mind telling me why you've nearly tapped a hole in the desk then?'_

Dylan sighed and quietly took his cellphone from his pocket.

'I don't know. Not feeling well. Head and stomach are killing me. I have this not-so-good feeling, April. Somethings going on,' he texted her.

'U want 2 leave early? Ditch,' she sent back.

He had to think about that one. To be honest, he wouldn't mind leaving and going to check on Becky. He hadn't heard from her since she went home the other night. He parents had insisted that she went back, and she apparently left before he arrived with Jesse. But, she hadn't called him to say she made it home ok. It was really starting to bother him.

"Hey," he felt a nudge at his shoulder. "Dude, you're _amped_. What's wrong?"

His sister stared down at him like he'd grown a second head from his shoulders.

"Class is over," she said, her arm scanning the room. Yep, she was right. He had worried throughout the whole class, neglecting to learn anything from the lesson. At least time had gone by.

"Jesse's here," she smiled, waving at him through the classroom window. "Look, if you need to do something to make yourself feel better, go do it. Jesse will be with me, OK?"

"You be careful," Dylan said as he grabbed his backpack and headed towards the open classroom door.

"You do the same," she yelled after him, her high heels clacking on the tile floor as he followed him out the exit.

He was headed to his car, about to open his door when he felt a presence behind him. His body tensed, ready to attack. Whatever it was had the intent of surprise.

They weren't doing a very good job.

Their feet kicked up gravel as they walked through the high school parking lot.

He could hear their breathe quickening, and he spun around right before got the jump on him.

"_Geesh_," she gasped, her heart pounding. "You know _I_ was the one trying to scare _you_, not the other way around! You almost gave me a heartattack."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Becky. Are you alright," he hurriedly said, feeling rather ridiculous for being that precautious in a secured lot. It was just that everything else had him on edge. "I'm sorry, hun."

He quickly pulled her to him, squeezing her tight in his arms.

"Jerk," she joked, as she nuzzled his chest through his shirt. She opened up a button and softly kissed his chest.

"Don't start doing that here," he groaned, pulling her back a little. His body only responded like that with her around.

"You know you like it," she purred. "Come here."

She pulled his face down to her own, pressing her delicate, petal-soft lips to his. The kiss was tame but passionate, her tongue only occasionally grazing his lower lip. Either way, it shook him to the core.

"_So_…do I get to see you tonight," she asked through thick lashes, seductively biting her lower lip.

"Definitely," he chuckled, before kissing her again. "Let me drive you home and I'll come pick you up later. Ok?"

"Dylan, I have my car," she pointed down the lined up cars to her blue Cavalier.

"Look, it'll just make me feel better to know…just let me drive you home, ok," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She looked at him curiously, wondering what was the catch, before conceding with a sigh.

"Fine," she said. "But _you_ owe me tonight."

"Is that a challenge," he smirked, opening the door for her. She took a spot in the passenger seat and he knelt down to her level, brushing the hair from her face. "Because, I'll make it worth your while."

She shivered. That's the response he wanted.

Becky raised her hand, taking his in her own.

"I love you, Dylan."

"And I love you Rebecca. Don't you ever forget that."

After making sure all of her limbs were out of the way, he gently closed the door. Odd, but that strange, suffocating feeling that had consumed him the classroom came back just as suddenly as it had disappeared. Something was going to happen…and it wasn't going to be good.

* * *

_**St. Augustine, 1730  
**_  
"Face it Sam, we looked _everywhere _last night. There was _nothing_. Diddly squat," Dean said, plopping back down on the not-so-comfortable bed.

"Well maybe she didn't get the letter yet. Didn't Abby say her mom was in a long dress?"

"Yeah…"

"Maybe she get's it _tonight _at the dance. She said it was hand delivered, right," Sam whispered, unsure if the family was around.

From what he could recall about the story, that was true. In fact, that was the part that seemed most distressing to her mother and father. It meant whoever it was was actually around. And, that meant they were already in town.

Dean suggested they split up, each of them joining one of the family members today, keeping an eye on all of their activities. Maybe they'd run into someone that could be a suspect worth questioning.

They headed to town on horseback, something Dean hadn't done since he was a kid during a hunt out west. To his surprise, it came back to him as easy as riding a bicycle.

After a good ride and the finnicky horses finally hitched up to a post, the boys headed into town. Mrs. Stuart had mentioned something about meeting James to pick out some proper clothes for the dance. Sam headed in that direction. Dean knew were Abby would be. After all, she'd told him plenty of times back home.

_'Sometimes, during the day, I'd sneak out and go meet up with William. I'd tell my parents some bull about going to church…'_

Bad girl, Abby.

He slyly moved through the streets, intentionally avoiding the main roadway. Abby was too smart to actually be seen with the 'good' doctor. They had managed to keep it secret from most people…so they had to have met somewhere lowkey during the day.

Dean saw a sign outside of a building that read doctor. Could there be more than one in the po-dunk town?

He quietly headed towards the back of the building, having to practically squeeze down the narrow alleyway. Before rounding the corner, he checked to make sure he had his knife on him. Honestly, from what Abby had told him, the guy was unbalanced. Dean didn't know what to expect.

He sighed quietly before sticking his head around the bend of the coquina building, just enough to see the transgressions that were goin' down.

The twosome looked both ways down the dark alley behind his office, before she smiled and he pinned her against the wall. It took everything in Dean not to kill the guy right there.

Abby moaned softly and wrapped her legs around William's body as he ground his against her own. The other guy's hands greedily roamed over her body, his lips leaving sloppy kisses on her neck…and Dean could only sit and watch as the smile on Abby's lips grew. She was smiling the way _he_ made her smile.

"Will, stop. Someone's here," she whispered, quickly putting her feet back on the ground and straightening out her dress.

"I don't see anyone. We're fine," William groaned, going for Abby again.

"William, _stop_," she insisted, as he continued to torture her neck. He wasn't slowing down.

_'Fuck this,' _Dean thought, as he slowly emerged from the shadows.

He did try not to show any favoritism, but the furrowing of his brows and the disdain on his face threw off his vibe.

"_Dean_," Abby questioned, her own eyes wide with surprise. "What--what are you doing here?"

She had already quickly pushed William away, almost hard enough to push him into the other side of the alley.

"Just taking a walk…and then I heard someone tell someone to _stop_," Dean said, intentionally staring down William. "You ok, Abigail? Do you need any help?"

William took a step forward towards Dean.

"Easy, Pops," Dean smirked, tapping his knife. "I'm not here for a fight. I'm just trying to protect the lady."

"You insolent prick," William scowled, his eyes turning darker and darker by the minute. "How dare you make such assumptions and allegations?!"

"Look," Dean continued to explain, making sure to keep some distance between William and Abby. "All I know is I rounded the corner and saw you all over her and she told you to stop. Just making sure you didn't steal her virtue."

William stood before Dean, heaving with anger. He was pretty sure the 18th century man was gonna deck him. Whatever. He'd been itching for a fight with the douchebag since the first day Abby ever mentioned him. But, instead, William brushed past both he and Abby and returned to his office, slamming the door in his wake.

Dean's attention was immediately drawn back to Abby, who was staring at Dean with tears in her eyes, her lips trembling. The girl was 'bout to burst into tears.

"Hey it's ok," he consoled, trying to comfort her. She brushed him aside.

"It's none of your concern," she yelped, the tears flowing freely. "You shouldn't have interfered!"

"But I thought you were in trouble," Dean said, his heart dropping.

"I can take care of myself," Abby said stoically, wiping the tears from her eyes. She picked up the bottom of her dress and hurried down the stone walkway. "Just leave me alone."

Out of force of habit, Dean followed her.

"_Please_, leave me alone," she sighed, spinning around every once in a while to see if he was still there.

He let her know that he was just making sure she made it home alright.

"Maybe I'm not going home," she chuckled.

"It's not safe, you know...what you're doing with that jerk," Dean finally spoke his mind.

"Really," she twisted around almost too quickly, appearing again only inches from him. If he wasn't already so used to it, he would have been shocked by her stealth and speed. "And how, pray tell, would you know that?"

Dean had to think on his toes, which was no easy task with her. He didn't want to give anything away about their future. No. It would be much too hard on both of them.

"I know men like that. Any guy who doesn't stop when a woman says so is bad news. He care about you...and he definitely doesn't love you."

He could hear her gasp as he spoke the last part.

"Do you think, if you asked him to stop if he was _hurting_ you, he would? Come on, Abigail! You are so much smarter than this…," he said, her eyes meeting his curiously as he paused. "I mean you seem so smart. Too smart to put yourself with a guy like that. I mean it. He's not good for you. Does your mother know what you--?"

"Please, _please _don't say anything," Abby's eyes pleaded with his own. "I beg of you, if you feel any sympathy for me _please _do not mention anything to my family. Dean, I beseech you."

She took his hands in her own, her cold fingers trembling over his.

Her touch was…awesome. Yep, that was the only way to describe it. Didn't matter what year it was, her touch still meant the world to him.

"Hey," he smirked, flashing her the smile he knew would win her over. "Look at me. No need to beg, alright? I won't say a word."

"Thank you," she whispered, lightly squeezing his fingers. Then, she let go and pulled away, turning back towards the light of the city.

Dean stayed still, not sure of what to do. Everything within himself told him that it was right…that it wasn't right…he was feeling very conflicted. He didn't know what the hell to do with himself.

"Dean?"

He lifted his eyes to see her smiling and standing before him. Waiting.

"I would very much like if you'd join me for a walk," she asked, her grin sincere.

Dean approached her, putting a hand out to hers. Surprisingly, she reached for his with little hesitation. He then took her arm in his, as he had at their wedding, and escorted her out into the light.

* * *

She leaned her back against Jesse's chest, enjoying the bliss as he massaged her shoulders.

"Better," he asked, kissing her neck.

"Much," she sighed, letting herself fall more into him.

Chilled arms wrapped around her body, his softly touching her own.

"Are you comfortable," she asked, tilting her head back to look at him. "I can't imagine leaning against tree bark is very good for the spine."

"I'm fine. Doesn't matter for me anyways," he laughed, kissing the top of her head. "This is nice."

"It is," she agreed.

April wasn't lying. At first, she wasn't too fond of Jesse's idea to go to the forest preserve. Seemed pretty lame. However, it was just the opposite. In fact, it was darn right serene.  
It was nice to ditch class and relax, to forget about troubles in the arms of someone else. Someone she cared about and cared about her…and someone who could fill a void.

"Birthday is comin' up soon, right," he asked. She spun around quickly to face him, laying her chin on his sternum.

"Yep," she answered. "The big 1-8. Legally an adult. Crazy, huh?"

"It is," he chuckled. "Although, during my time, I was already an adult at 16."

"Well, thanks for crapping all over my celebration," she teased, playfully pinching his side.

"I'm sorry," he laughed, kissing her on the forehead again. "Well, it's _your_ birthday coming up; what do you want to do for it?"

Hmmm…she hadn't really thought about it. After all, all she could really think about was the upcoming summer break; 3 whole months that she could just spend hunting. April was actually getting giddy with the thought.

"Could I accompany you to your senior dance, perhaps?"

"What? Are you serious," she snorted, pushing herself up off of his chest, making sure she had those beautiful blue eyes locked on her own. "Before you even go on…you do know I have to repeat senior year, right?"

"Well, you're still a senior," he shrugged. "Come on, it'll be fun."

A _dance_? Was he serious?

From the look in on his face, he really, _really_ was.

She didn't answer him. Instead, she laid her head back down on his chest and closed her eyes.

Her mother had once said, "Dancing is the ultimate language."

"My mother taught me, that no matter what different languages we may speak, we all understand dance," Abby had once lectured. "You can never misinterpret the intentions of a dance."

So, that resulted in years of her mother teaching her and her brother dances; from waltz to the Cha-Cha Slide. April used to wonder how her mother ever learned all the styles she did. Made sense now that she knew she was a vampire.

April could never before replicate the strange grace her mother seemed to have while dancing. Maybe, now, she'd have the same ability after all.

_'You can never misinterpret the intentions of a dance,' _her mother's voice rang through her head.

She lifted her head slightly from Jesse's cold, chiseled chest and looked into his vibrant blue eyes. He smiled down at her, his blonde hair falling over his forehead. The man really was something remarkable to behold.

Yes, she'd dance with him…now she just had to figure out her true intentions.

* * *

_**St. Augustine, 1730**_"Thank you, Sam, for accompanying me to the tailor," Ann said, smiling up at him.

"My pleasure," Sam politely replied, carrying her wrapped up parcels.

"The suits in there should fit you and Dean just fine for tonight. I assume both of you will be attending," she asked him.

"Of course," he smiled.

"It was very nice of Dean to bring Abby to the shop. I do fear for her when she is alone," Ann commented, her head titled up to look at Sam.

"Yes, it was nice of him," he responded.

Ann had a curious look on her face.

"Jealous," she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jealous?! Was she _serious_?!

"Nothing to be jealous of," Sam said, trying to cover up the odd inflection in his voice.

Ann didn't reply, she only smiled.

_'Oh no, what am I getting myself into,' _Sam asked himself.

"James seemed happy today," he changed the subject.

"I fear he's feigning enthusiasm. This is the first social event since…since his wife's and daughter's passing. I feel like a horrible mother, forcing him to attend--but he needs something else shared besides a cantina every night."

Sam could understand her intentions for her son, but he wasn't really sure if pushing him to do something he clearly wasn't ready for was the right means of action. He knew that from experience. It would only make him resent his parents, and eventually, he'd take off. Yep, same thing happened to him. You push someone to do something, eventually they'll push back.

He made a mental note to have either himself or Dean check on James later at the pub. There was a good chance that he'd go there after the dance. He couldn't imagine that going to a happy event like a dance brought back good memories. Well..._maybe_ good...but definitely painful. It was like himself and Halloween Parties. After his last one with Jess, he wouldn't go to them. Period. He even hated investigating the one during the Samhain case. All he could see was Jess in her little nurse outfit; smiling, happy, adorable. Alive.

"I'm really pleased you and your friend decided to come to our faire colony. It's always nice to meet nice young men. We usually have a lot of rowdy sailors and soldiers. Men of fortune. You seem more down to Earth," she mused.

"Well, thanks," he smiled shyly, running his fingers through his hair. "I guess there's a time when everyone wants to settle down and not...I don't know...be adventurous."

"I bet your betrothed would be happy to hear that," she smiled. He looked at her in confusion, before she took his left hand and looked at his wedding ring.

"_Oh_," he said.

_'Shit, I forgot to take that off,'_ he scolded himself.

"I was married...she passed away," he lied, feeling a tinge of guilt before swallowing it back down. He had to come up with some excuse as to why he was in the city with out his spouse...and he spoke before his mind put two and two together. There were lots of guys who lived alone in the city, most of them with wives, far, far away on the other side of the ocean. However, if he would have told Ann the truth, it would most likely have limited his access to Abby...in terms of the case anyways.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I hope you don't find my prodding odd, but what do you want out of life, Samuel? Are you hoping to settle down once again," she continued, her grin slightly warmer and open since his revelation.

_'Oh Boy.'_

* * *

"Baby, are you ok?"

"Hmmm," he asked, bringing his eyes back on the road. Oh yeah, he was driving Becky home. For a moment...he had been caught in a daze. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"I was saying to pay attention to the frickin' road, fool," she said sternly. "I'd like to make it home _alive_."

_'I'd like you to make it home alive too,'_ his thoughts said. _'Wow...that's a random, morbid thought.' _And he had no idea where it came from.

Dylan chalked it up to his current state of mind. He was worried, so obviously, he'd project his fears onto someone he cared about. Someone he loved.

"Hey, hel-lo," she asked again, her hand over his on the gear shift. "Did you hear _anything_ I said?"

"S'orry," he muttered, trying to concentrate on driving, blocking his thoughts along with ignoring the waves of worry and annoyance emanating from the girl in the passenger seat.

"Don't be sorry," Becky yelled, "Just pay attention. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied, not wanting to burden or frighten her with his fears.

"Yes there is. Why don't we talk about it," she asked, her voice become pitchy with emotion.

_'Because you'll think I'm fucking crazy,' _his mind spoke while he stayed silent.

"It's nothing," he replied with a little more force, running a hand through his dark hair. "Just drop it."

"Why?"

"Because it's none of your _business_," he yelled...and then immediately regretted those words ever leaving his mouth.

Her aura grew hot and angry, stretching out from the center of her body until the fiery intensity ran over the whole car.

"Pull over."

"What," he reacted in surprise, glancing over to the passenger seat in surprise. "No. I'm not letting you walk home."

Her blue eyes shot and icy look into his own dark eyes. Becky was dead serious.

"Then talk about it," Becky yelped. "How do you except to be with me...to build a life with me like you keep talking about, Dyl?! Do you think it's going to get any easier when we get out apartment?"

He kept his mouth shut because he already knew the answer. The answer was clearly no. But, what else could he say. 'Sorry babe, I'm kinda psychic and I'm sensing someone's in danger?' Yeah, that would go over well.

"Maybe it's a stupid idea," she sighed, her hot exterior turning into an ice shield.

"Good, I'll drive you home."

"I meant moving in together after school."

"What," he said, suddenly pulling the car over to the shoulder. "What are you saying?"

He parked the car and pivoted in his seat to give her his attention. Through her mahogany, wavy hair, he could make out her eyes...and the tears running down her face. Dylan knew he was hurting her. God knows he could feel it, his own single tear the personification of their combined emotions. Her soft pink lips trembled as she used both hands to wipe away the tears, turning her face back up to his with determination.

"Look," she started to explain, "I've opened up to you about everything. I've given you _everything_ I have, Dylan...body, mind and soul. And...I feel like you're always hiding something from me and it's _killing_ me. Unless you can come clean, right now, about what you're freaking out about..."

"I can't," he snapped.

"Fine," she barked right back, starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. Dylan reached over the console, grabbing her hand. "Don't touch me."

He pulled back.

Dyl watched stoically as Becky got out of the car, grabbing her backpack, and slamming the door.

"By the way," she said, leaning into the car via the unrolled window. "If you change your mind, stop being an ass and actually want to talk...come on over."

And then she walked away.

* * *

_**St. Augustine, 1730**_

"You kiddin' me, Sammy," Dean said, straightening out the shirt, unnecessary waistcoat _and _long coat. Was the outfit a method of torture in the South? He was seriously already sweating his balls off. "I know you're used to wearing this shit, but I can't do it."

"Yeah, sure, you know me, Dean. I never leave the house without a ruffled shirt on underneath my knee length coat," Sam replied with loaded sarcasm.

Dean had serious doubts of whether he pull of the period fashion. Sure, he was a good lookin' guy. No doubt about that. But…dressed in _that_…he didn't feel like it.

"Dean," Sam said, coming up behind him, putting his hands on the elder's shoulders. "Look at it this way. One, we'll get to keep an eye on the family with out looking out of place. Ridiculous maybe, but not conspicuous. Two…nothing but candlelight yet, maybe shadows will be your friend."

"Bite me," Dean said, shrugging Sam away as his brother laughed.

Maybe it would be fine, he told himself as he looked into the mirror.

In fact, he'd be seeing Abby soon, dressed in her finest. Hell, she could dress up in a paper bag and look hot. He couldn't help but recall the time they had gone to a dance, costume of course, where she had dressed similarly. And, she had looked awesome. Beautiful and gorgeous seemed cheap words to use for her.

The smile she'd given him in his most recent memory came back and he felt like he could do it. Yes, he'd dress out of his comfort zone to keep her safe and solve the mystery.

"Ok, Sammy, let's go."


	19. Girls Got Rhythm

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

**Author's Note:**I apologize for the short chapter and one only from one characters perspective. There should be only 2 chapters regarding the boys in the past (intermingled with the storylines at home). Time is moving slowly in the present time and going more quickly for the boys in the past. Thus, there is more to write about in the 1700s for the time being. But, fear not. There will be plenty more of the other characters! I have also posted some new artwork under my profile. Feel free to check it out!

"Oh, good evening, boys," Ann greeted from her spot by the front door. "James arrived early to escort Abigail to the dance. I'm afraid they've already departed. How are you both traveling this evening?"

"Um, by horse," Dean said, shrugging matter-of-factly. He wasn't sure what she was gettin' at with that question.

"Dean, you are a delight," she smiled and laughed. "Would you both like to travel with us? Mr. Stuart was just getting the carriage."

"That sounds great," Sam said, giving Dean a slight push forward.

"Dude, I got it," Dean whispered, taking slight steps towards the open door.

Ann stood there on the porch in all her glory. She was dressed in a light green gown with some sort of flower pattern over it. In fact…it looked very similar to the dress Abby had worn at their dance in 2000-whatever. She did say it was an antique.

"Darling," a man said with a smile before hopping down from the carriage driver seat. He walked over to Ann, kissing her cheek before helping her up to her seat.

"Thomas, these are the boys I was telling you about."

"The ones staying at our home," he questioned, before turning soft eyes to the boys. "Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Thomas."

Dean followed Sam into a slight bow. What a weird way to greet someone.

"Thanks for letting us stay here, Mr. Stuart," Dean nodded.

"Please, you can address me as Thomas," the not-so-middle-aged man replied.

Thomas Stuart didn't really appear intimidating. The man had soft, dark brown eyes that were somewhat covered by his dark hair. Apparently, most men at the time didn't shave much and Tom had the stubble to support that theory. The beard, however, was more tame than a lot of the people he'd seen in the town. Definitely classy. He was relatively thin, although Dean could clearly make out muscle definition in his arms. Hell, even the guy's hands were strong. Abby had once told him that, being predators, Lamia were gifted with strong muscles that were comparable to big cats. They could spring into action at a moments notice. Made vampires developed higher muscle definition once the transformation was complete. She tried to get into all the scientific bullshit of it, but Dean wasn't really all that interested.

"Hop in," Thomas said as he pulled himself up on the wagon.

Dean jumped in first, followed by Sam, and they took the seat across from Mrs. Stuart.

The wagon jolted forward, sending the boys into their seats. As he shifted on the hard wooden bench, he dreamed for the Impala. How times had changed.

The conversation with the Mrs. on the way to the party was typical: weather, family, travel, politics, etc. And, for Dean, it was boring. Sammy was eatin' it up.

As for Mr. Stuart, Thomas remained quiet, his only interjection into the conversation was a chuckle here or there. He seemed like a typically quiet man. Now he could see where James got that from. And, from the amount of talking coming from Ann, he could see where Abby got her gift of gab.

"So what are your plans for this evening," she asked. "Are you planning on dancing?"

"Oh, no, _no_," Dean laughed. "No. I'm not into that."

"Then how do you hope to meet a woman, dear Dean," she laughed.

"Don't worry about it. I'll find her one day. I have a feeling," he smirked.

"Odd...and Interesting. Most men are interested in the chase of it all."

"I suppose a lot are. Hell, I used to be," Dean continued. "But, I think when you meet the right one, you don't wanna run anymore, ya know."

"I can see your point, Dean. And you, Sam," she turned, her eyebrow raised curiously.

"Maybe I'll dance," he laughed. "I don't know. Depends on the girl I guess. You look really nice, Mrs. Stuart."

Suck up.

"Thank you, Samuel. You boys both look handsome. I'm pleased that the clothing fit you both so nicely."

"Thanks, Ann. and Sam's right, you look very pretty," Dean smiled, trying to win brownie points with his mother-in-law.

"Why, thank you."

"Ah, the way to a woman's heart. My Ann always likes flattery," Thomas chimed in. _Burn._

"Hush, Tom," she snapped back, but couldn't hold back her smile.

The trip wasn't too long before they got to the house where the dance was to take place. Ironically, it was the same place as before; The Kings Inn.

_'No shit,'_ he thought with a smile. He turned to Sam who was trying to hold in his smile. Sammy recognized it too.

Thomas stopped them in front before quickly climbing down and putting a hand out to his wife.

"Thank you, husband," she took his hand in her own and kissed his cheek as he helped her down.

"I'll return once I hitch up the horses," Thomas said, giving Dean Ann's hand. "Would you be so kind as to escort my wife into the dance until I return?"

"Sure. No problem," Dean said, gladly taking his mother-in-laws gloved hand.

The three made their way into the house, the double doors being opened to them as they entered. The Kings Inn had never looked so...nice. The room was full of well-dressed people and was bathed in candlelight. People were laughing and enjoying themselves...and there was a huge table of food.

_'Jackpot.'_

Thomas returned, offering his wife his arm and relieving Dean. He nodded to his father-in-law as the couple walked away .

Dean smiled at the ladies, who giggled behind their hand-fans and secretly checked him out. Flirtatious bunch of girls.

Then a familiar, musical laughter took his attention. Dean's eyes scanned the room until he saw the well-known, wavy black hair. He looked at the back of her head, the blue tints of her locks bright against the warm, orange glow of the candlelit room. She laughed again and turned slightly around, revealing the side of her face. She was..._wow_. That was the only way to describe it. The only time he'd seen her more beautiful was on their wedding day. Out of all the ladies in the room, she was the only one wearing a red dress and to have her hair down, which was receiving scornful glances from the elder women of the room. Abby was laughing with her friends while she fanned herself. Come to think of it, it was rather unpleasantly hot out that evening.

Her eyes glanced down at the fan in her hand and then she raised her head up and her dark eyes pierced his green. She looked at him carefully, not flirtatious as she had with the other men. She was meek and her eyes were shy. Her lips curled up into a smile and she bit her lower lip and looked down to the floor.

God, she didn't realize what that did to him.

"I'm going to go talk to James," Sam whispered to him. Dean looked around the room and found James leaning against a wall near the corner, looking like he was having a miserable time.

"Ok," he answered softly, his eyes still glued on the girl across the room.

She was still smiling with her friends, occasionally meeting his eyes as he found a seat at a table across the room.

"It appears my daughter likes you."

"What," Dean said, stunned by the statement. He twisted in the rigid chair to find Thomas sitting next to him.

"Abigail. She seems attracted to you."

"Oh." What an awkward convo to have with the dad.

"I don't mind you know."

"Pardon?"

"My wife hopes Sam likes Abby. She thinks they'd be a good match."

_'That's a laugh.'_

"That so?"

"Ann just wants Abby to settle down and be happy with someone. Marriage is a logical step at her age. Plus, to be honest, my wife is desperate for grandkids. Samuel isn't usually the type that she looks for in a son-in-law," he laughed at the not-so-inside joke. Dean already knew that Ann would have preferred Abby had settled with another Lamia male. But, guess she was desperate enough to start looking at humans for husband hunting...pun intended.

"And you don't," Dean said, turning more attention to his father-in-law.

"I fear for my Abby. She's a sweet girl...and that is to a fault. She trusts people too much. It's a dangerous venture to place your care onto others."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "I agree. She doesn't know what these assholes are thinking about her. I mean, look at those guys over there…they're looking at her like she's a piece of meat. Not nice."

"Are _you_ interested in her," her father asked with a slight smirk.

That caught Dean by surprise.

"What? No, _no_…why do you ask that," Dean asked, still a little shocked.

Thomas leaned forward, that same odd smirk playing across his face.  
"To be honest, Dean," he whispered. "I think you and my daughter would be a better match; or someone _like_ you. I feel like you play up a facade, but really, you want a family. I really feel that from you. You already care about her deeply."

_'What was his power again? Shit, I can't remember.'_

"My Abby needs someone who can protect her and love her once I'm gone," Thomas said, patting Dean on the back. "Someone who can tell her 'no.' Seems like most men around her would let her get away with anything."

_'Ha.'_

"Oh, believe me, that shit doesn't slide with me," Dean smirked, and made a reminder to watch his mouth. Instead of an awkward moment, Thomas laughed.

"Dean, I know it most likely will not happen, but if it did, I would be happy to have you in my family."

"Thanks," Dean smiled, actually quite shocked at Mr. Stuarts admission.

From the distance, Dean could see Sam nodding his head and trying to get his attention.

"Excuse me," he said to Thomas.

"Not at all. I actually should find my wife. I have seemed to misplace her," he laughed.

Dean hurried over to his brother.

"What's up Sammy? I was just getting on the good side of my father-in-law," he smiled.

"What? Dean, James is going to leave soon and hit the bar and he asked me to join."

"Sweet," Dean replied. "So, now what? Where's Abby?"

"I don't know…and where's Ann?"

_'Shit.'_

The boys split up, hurriedly brushed past people on the dance floor in opposite directions of the dimly lit room. Dean searched hallways and secluded spots, thinking perhaps Abby had taken a guy she could seduce to a corner to make out….like the horny teenager that she was.

_'Come on, Ab. Where the fuck…'_

"I told you, that's _enough, Abigail_."

Bingo. Dean listened carefully.

"What did I do," Abigail whispered, her voice desperate.

"You can't make eyes at others. You're mine."

"Huh, really? Because, you're a married man. You're _hers_. I belong to no one."

Wow, she was really sassy, but good for her. It was nice to know her spirit had never diminished.

"Listen to me you little wench…"

Then he heard something hit the floor with a clank, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

"Ouch, you're hurting me, William," she yelped.

Dean was conflicted. Should he step in? Last time, Abby said she didn't need him and to basically mind his own business. But, she said those words; he was hurting her.

"I care for you, Abby. I want you to be mine. And, dear, you know I cannot divorce my wife. Please, I can take care of you, but only if you. Are. Mine."

There was a rustle of fabric and Abby appeared round the corner, wiping tears from her eyes. Her posture was wobbly.

"Hey, you ok," Dean asked as Abby tripped. He quickly righted her, holding her up. "Easy. I've got you."

"Could you take me home," Abby whispered, her breathe chilled against his ear. "I'm not feeling well."

"Sure. Go wait by your carriage and I'll take you home, ok," he said, brushing the hair out of eyes as a force of habit.

She nodded and headed for the front door as he made his way to find Sammy. His brother appeared rounding a corner, his eyes searching the dance floor wildly.

"Sam, what's going on," Dean asked as Sam brushed past him, frantically searching the packed room.

"Thomas went off with Ann…right after Ann got the letter."

"What?! She got it here?! From who," Dean said, joining his brother.

"I don't know. All I know was that it was a woman. She was wearing a black cloak."

Dean searched around. Not one person was wearing that.

"She must have snuck out an outside exit," Sam said. "Damn it!"

"Easy, Sammy. Did you get a good look of who it was?"

"No. I was looking for Ann and I finally saw her in the hall, with another person in shadow. Ann didn't look happy and she already had the letter. Then, the thing disappeared and Ann blurred off. I tried to chase it down but…there was no way."

"Ok, ok. Thomas is with her. That's a good thing. If they aren't at home, she hasn't burnt it yet. I'm going to take Abby home and hang out there. You go with James and hang out at the bar. See if there's anything else that he and the local yokels have that's useful to us. And keep an eye out for a chick in a black cloak. I'll try to snatch that letter when the folks get home. See you later."

"Be good, Dean," Sam called after him.

Be good, of course he'd be good, he thought as he made his way outside. There she was, waiting right where he told her to, petting the white horse's nose.

"You're a good boy," she laughed, nuzzling the horse's snout. For a predator and killer of animals, she sure was friendly to her food.

"Ready," he asked, holding out his hand to help her up into the carriage.

"Yes."

She approached and he gestured for her to sit in the back.

"Dean?"

"Yes?"

"Would it be alright…however improper…would-would it be alright if I sat up front with you?"

All thoughts about being good flew out the window.


	20. Turn The Page

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me._

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay. I was on vacation! :-) Chapter 21 will be the last one in the past! Enjoy!

Dean fidgeted on the uncomfortable, wooden chair, peering up at the massive amounts of flickering stars peeking out from behind the clouds. He'd been impatiently sittin' there since he brought himself and Abby back from the dance. It was the only thing keeping him from goin' across the hall and checking on her.

She'd been mostly quiet during the short trip home, her thoughts seemingly on their own tangent. He'd helped her down off the wagon, receiving a succinct 'thank you' before she'd rushed into the house and up to her bedroom.

He'd struggled about goin' over to see if she was doing ok. Would it be right? Would she even want him to?

So, there he sat, tryin' to find other things to keep himself occupied. Three long hours had passed since they arrived back at the Stuart manor....and Dean was starting to lose the internal battle.

_'Just go in and tell her you wanted to make sure she's ok,'_ his thoughts bargained. _'Check on her and then you can just go to bed.'_

Dean stood and stretched out his cramped joints, already scolding himself for what he was about to do. He silently opened his door and traversed the corridor, checking both ways for anyone else that could be in the house. Not a soul.

Knock. Knock.

No answer.

**Knock. Knock.**

Still nothing.

He tested the brass handle to see that it was locked. It turned easily.

Quietly, and trying not to seem so damn creepy, Dean popped his head in the open entry.

He searched the room and looked towards the bed. It appeared messed up and used, slept in anyway. But, much to his chagrin, no Abby.

Dean entered the room cautiously, checking every nook and cranny for the girl. No sign of her. No sign of a struggle either. At least that seemed promising.

A slight breeze to his left caught his attention.

He twisted towards the wind, allowing it to lead him to an open exterior door. Warily, he headed towards the porch entrance, kinda worried at what he may find out there.

There she was, in a very thin, slightly transparent nightgown. Abby was seated on the balcony railing, straddling it really; one leg dangling over the safety of the porch, the other over the steep drop to the dune below.

"Hello," Dean cleared his throat, trying his best to not look at the fantastic silhouette under the thin shift.

"Oh, hello," she said, attempting to inconspicuously cover her breasts with her hands. My god was she good lookin' in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't awaken you," she sniffled.

_Sniffled?_

"Hey, you ok," he asked, taking another step towards her.

"I'll be fine," she chuckled, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "I woke up with a start from a bad dream. I shall be alright."

_Bad dream_….that sounded vaguely familiar.

"Might make you feel better to let someone know what it's about," Dean said, cautiously hopping up onto the railing before rearranging himself, mimicking Abby's stance.

"No, no," she wearily smiled. "It's not your burden. Besides, it's absurd to be this overwhelmed by a dream. I don't know why I let them affect me to the point of tears."

"Well, if you wanna talk about it," he offered again, shrugging. She only nodded in reply, obviously trying to evade the subject.

They remained in silence, the only sound emanating around them was the ocean and the distant sound of ship bells. That was, until she sighed deeply with longing.

Dean raised his eyes to see Abby dreamily looking out over the ocean.

"I wish I was there," she admitted.

"Where? The ocean," he asked in confusion.

"On one of those ships," she admitted with a smirk. "I wouldn't care where it was going…just anywhere. Somewhere that I can breathe and …do what I want to do."

"What ships," Dean asked, trying to find what the fuck she was looking at.

With a smile, Abby scooted forward and closer to Dean. She leaned in closer and pointed her finger, guiding his vision to the miniscule dots of light bobbing on the waves.

"Those are the candlelit lamps on the deck and those on the back are in the captain's quarters. Beautiful, aren't they," she said with excitement. "I long to be there."

"Aren't you happy here," Dean asked, his brows furrowed. "You seem to love your family."

"Tis true, but I do loathe their smothering me to death. I feel so--so--trapped here. _Stifled_. I just want to…"

"Yeah," Dean said, curious at this new side of Abby he was seeing.

"Nevermind…they are inappropriate thoughts of a woman of my age and stature to have. Just forget I mentioned it…"

"No. Tell me," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I want an _adventure_, Dean," she smiled, her eyes burning into his own. "I--I want to sneak on a ship to the northern British colonies or take a horse and ride northwest into the wilderness...or, even though my mother is highly opposed, visit Europe."

"Europe? Why doesn't your mom want you to go to Europe," he inquired. Dean already knew the answer; something about Ann's past terrified her back in their homeland and she purposefully had instilled that same fear into her children. Whether or not she thought it worked for her daughter, the rebellious one obviously found the opposite just as appealing. Abby clearly thought it would be more of a rush to disobey her parents and head straight into danger. Typical teenager.

"I just...wish I could go and do..._something_," she sighed, her hands playing with the hem of her nightie. "I long to learn new things and be who I want to be without being looked down upon." She pulled her knees to her chest, her eyes searching the ocean. "Dean, I hope I don't come across as a selfish, heartless shrew because I love my family with every fiber of my being. Truly, I do. But my mother and brother...they are overprotective. As much as they care about me, they're _killing _me. So, what did I do? Did exactly what they didn't want me to do. I've been reckless and completely careless almost to a point of destruction."

"Abigail, is that why you are with William," Dean questioned, his fists clenching at the mere mention of the douchebag.

"I suppose. My brother and mother were always warning me about the miscreants that are men. They were only after my virtue that was meant for my husband. Only....I didn't believe it. Any of it. So, I guess I found my way into William's bed to prove them wrong," she shrugged. "My father knows, you know. It's very hard to keep anything from my father. He has a way of knowing what you're going through. But--but he's the only one in my family who allows me to learn and make mistakes....just....to be."

She paused and closed her eyes, her dark hair blowing in the sandy breeze.

"I suppose you don't have these thoughts," she laughed. "You have the life I can only dream of."

"Ya think so," he smirked. "What if I told you that all I wanna do is settle down?"

She laughed and closer with a smile.

"That's only because you've lived, my Dean," she smirked, biting her lower lip.

Good Lord. For seventeen, she sure had the sex-kitten vibe down pat.

"I'm being serious, Abigail," he smirked back, finding himself veering ever closer to her.

"Please, Dean. You may call me Abby."

* * *

Sam's eyes tried to focus in the low candlelight of the dingy pub, watching as James slammed back another drink. The guy could certainly hold down his liquor. Could vampires die of alcohol poisoning?

"So, friend," James said, tilting the then empty glass in his hand, "did _you _have a good time at that little soirée?"

"Not really," he admitted. "You're mother is harassing me about courting your sister."

"Huh," he huffed curiously. "Odd for my mother to be so forthright. She must be getting desperate."

"Well, thanks," Sam said, slightly offended. After all, if it wasn't for the other bullshit that went down, they may have made a great couple…_maybe_. Or, they could have been the death of each other. Thank god they didn't have to find out the answer to that equation.

"I hope you are not taking offense to that," James chuckled, surprising Sam with a friendly pat on the back. "You and your friend seem like good enough people….it's just, you don't quite fit in with us. Nothing personal."

James smiled sadly, twirling the glass in his fingers.

"It's not that I don't wish you and Abigail wouldn't work. _If_ she fancied you, which I'm sorry but she doesn't. Perhaps as a good friend, but--let's just say I know her variably well. Her type isn't as sweet as you. If you two were a match, I would wish you both nothing but happiness, but…it would be a dangerous venture. I know that all too well, sir."

Sam sighed and told James that he was truly sorry for the loss of his wife and daughter.

"Mother told you," James inquired, eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Sam admitted with embarrassment.

"That is what I mean. _Dire _consequences, my friend," he toasted to him before tossing back another.

Sam took a swig of his own drink. It was odd. It was like beer but didn't quite taste like anything he'd tried before. The only reason he tried it was because most of the other sailors were drinking it. He didn't even know the name. But, whatever it was, seemed pretty watered down. He briefly wondered if the drunks knew the barkeep was cheating them outta liquor.

"William," he heard a man call. "Over here!"

James very quietly growled next to Sam, which was a very big slip up to anyone who wasn't used to it.

_'He must know about Abby and that jerk,_' he thought.

"William, we tried to find you at the end of the dance but you went missing, old friend," the Dr.'s acquaintance revealed as William took a seat at the table on the other side of the bar.

"My apologizes, old friend. I was briefly detained," William said, signaling to the bar wench to fetch him a drink. "Rum, miss."

"By the dark haired woman," another friend said, elbowing him in the side.

"Dark haired woman," William said, slightly flustered, looking like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Apparently, he didn't think anyone had seen him with Abby.

"You know…the one you were speaking with by your office? The one with the dark cloak?"

_'Dark cloak?'_

Sam's ears perked up. James leaned in closer too, seemingly just as interested in the conversation.

"Oh, _oh_," William chuckled. "Forgive my confused manner. Yes, yes, she was...no one of particular interest."

"Oh come off it, Will," his friend patted his back. "It looked like you two were very deep in an _intimate _conversation."

The other men at the table became more absorbed, some revealing looks of intrigue, while others were in disgust. They were obviously upset with the nighttime mingling of a married man with a mystery woman.

"So, tell us, William," his friend slurred. "What did this woman..._reveal_?"

"Nothing of great importance," the doctor suspiciously smirked, sitting back casually in his chair. The others at the table were sitting on the edge of their seat. "Now, gentlemen, why don't we converse about more interesting affairs."

"I'm done here," James announced, slamming his drink down and cracking the glass. "I will not listen to him anymore." He stood and grabbed his long overcoat from his chair, pausing before he took to the exit. "Safe journey home, Sam. I'm sure our paths will cross tomorrow."

"I think I'll be departing now as well," Sam said, also standing up to leave.

James bowed slightly and took off ahead of Sam, almost a little too quickly. Apparently, being drunk affected his ability remember that he was in a bar in public. Perhaps though, no one noticed.

As Sam walked out the entrance, he noticed William's eyes on the door...only no one was there. Had--had he been watching James?

"Well, the gentlemen, the woman did have something..._interesting_ to reveal about The Stuarts."

Sam's body shivered, a horrible chill running up his spine.

_'He knows...and whoever this woman is knows too.'_

"Excuse me, excuse me," he tried to be polite as he pushed his way through to the entrance of the bar. Sam did his best to keep his cool as he made his way to the front door, his insides taut and strained.

After making his way onto the city street, he ran faster than he ever thought possible towards The Stuart house. He had to warn Dean.

* * *

"Abby, you are _so _stubborn," Dean sighed in frustration, repeating the same phrase that he became quite accustomed to in his own time. Apparently, getting into a discussion--no, argument--about her illicit relationship with the doctor wasn't the smartest idea.

"How so," she asked, raising her elegant eyebrow.

"Abby, a man, a real _man_ would never, _ever_ say those things to you, or this," he scolded, taking her wrist gently but forcefully enough to get his point across. Dean held them up in the moonlight, his thumb gently caressing her skin, reveling in the feel of her. His eyes burned into the deep purple bruises the dick had left on her flesh. "Believe me, sweetheart, a man who loved you would never leave these marks."

"He--he just gets a tad overwhelmed," she said, trying to protect him.

"No, no, _no_ excuses, beautiful. _You're_ the victim here. He's older but that doesn't make him wiser. No guy, whether he's a husband or a boyfriend, should ever touch you like that and cause bruises. Your skin should never have a mark on it, Abby."

"Would you? Would you ever do this to me," she asked, softly stroking the plum fingerprints on her alabaster skin.

Dean kept his eyes on her, his lips set in a taut line. His face was deadly seriousness.

"_No_. There's nothing you could do or say to me that would ever make me do that to you, Abby."

She smiled moving her wrist from Dean's grasp, only to place her hand against his own, hers looking small in comparison to his.

"I believe you, Dean," she smiled, her fingers interlocking with his own.

It took Dean a minute to pull away from her soft touch. He had to keep reminding himself that anything more than friendly contact could result in something very bad….or very good. Nope…very bad.

"Well you should," he smirked, putting his hand in his pocket. "I treat my _girls _well."

Abby smiled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Girls," she mused with a laugh, a mischievous grin on her lips.

"Well, you know...guy like me would like to settle down, but...you know," he winked. He was trying to do his best to turn her off from him.

Her brows furrowed in thought as she bit down on her lip. Abby's look was contemplative, as if she was...oh no.

_'Please, please, please don't be looking into my thoughts,' _he mused, before shielding up as much as possible.

"No," her smile broke through. "You put up quite a scoundrel front, but your heart will only belong to one, someday. Whoever she is should consider herself lucky, Dean."

He'd have to remember that one...and bring that up to her in their time during an argument.

_'Oh, Abby, you should consider yourself lucky to have me. You said it yourself.'_ Ha! Like that'd go over well.

"Oh," she grumbled, swaying slightly. Her eyes rolled slightly backwards. Something was off with her.

"You ok," Dean said, his eyes turning suspicious.

"Actually, no," she sounded surprised and weaved as she tried to get off of the balcony of her own accord. Only, she wasn't making very good progress. Abby shifted slightly to the left, her balance thrown off, her body moving more over the open side of the balcony and over the ridge far below.

"Abby," he yelped , leaning forward to catch her before she went over the edge.

Her arms wrapped around his neck with less strength than she normally would use as Dean lifted her away from danger.

"What's wrong," he asked hurriedly, carrying her into the safer confines of her bedroom.

"I--I just feel really…dizzy," she revealed, gasping a little as Dean laid her on the bed.

_'Dizzy?'_"Abby, sweetheart, did you have something to drink at the dance," he asked, wiping a stray hair from her face, trying his best not to look at her body through the practically transparent nightgown.

"Yes," she whispered, her head finding comfort on the soft pillow. "William gave me a glass of red wine."

Dean's mind snapped to something familiar.

_'You see, even though he was a doctor at the time, he came from a long line of hunters. Not wanting a soulless abomination spawn, he figured out how to get rid of it. He handed her a glass of wine to toast the happy occasion, she drank it and then felt strange. It was actually merlot mixed with dead man's blood.'_James had told him that the night they sorta bonded at Abby's apartment in Chicago.

Another seen appeared with an angry William yelling at Abby and then the shattering of a glass, red wine spilled all over the floor.

"Wait here," Dean said, caressing Abby's cheek as she fell asleep. "I'll check on you in a little while, ok?"

"Hurry back," she commanded in her sleepy state, yawning and rolling onto her side.

He smiled at her, feeling a sense of recognition at those words. She never liked to be left in bed alone for too long. It must remind her too much of when he took the trip to The Pit…or maybe it was because of their long, recent time apart. Either way, didn't matter.

Dean hurried out into the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible. After all, didn't want to wake the folks comin' out of the daughter's bedroom.

"Dean," Sam said in the hallway.

"Shhh, dude," Dean warned.

"They're not back yet, Dean," his brother whispered, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into their shared room. "We need to talk."

"Yeah…."

"He knows already," they both said at the same time, looking at each other with bewildered gazes. "How do you…"

"How about you start first," Sam sighed, rubbing his temples.

* * *

_Hi, this is Becky. I'm not here so leave a message and I'll get back to you somehow, probably by texting. Thanks!_

"Hey Becks, it's me….again. Listen…babe, we need to talk. I'm sorry I was being a dick earlier. Please pick up. I love you."

He laid his head on his steering wheel, almost making a sound on the horn with his forehead.

_'Idiot,' _he scolded himself. _'You are such a fool.'_

Dyl couldn't argue with that.. He had been a total douche. Sure, in his own, odd way, he was protecting her…but, he was conflicted. God, he loved the girl, more than she could ever know. But, she _should _know. Fuck, if he had the money to provide for her right then and there, he'd get her a ring and officially make her his wife. As scary of a thought as that was, to be married at his age, it just felt _right _with her.

But Becky…as a Winchester? Would it be fair to her to be lied to on a daily basis from everyone? Would it be fair to everyone to have to lie to her?

"God, dammit," he muttered to himself.

That had been his life for the last hour or so; sitting in his car, pondering the meaning of life. So far, life sucked.

He sighed and picked up the phone once more, this time around, calling her folk's house. Maybe she's pick up the house phone.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi Mrs. Laughton," he greeted her mother. "Is Becky there?"

"You mean, she's not with you? We were just about to call you. She's not answering her cellphone."

That gnawing feeling of dread burst.

He hung up the phone and started the car, throwing it into drive and heading to the place where Becky had walked out of his car.

* * *

Sam put his head in his hands, shaking it as Dean went on with his story.

"So, the douchebag must already know, Sammy. He drugged her tonight, slipped her some DMB in her drink. He didn't just find out tonight."

"Well, she told him something about them," Sam said, standing up and starting to walk the room. "He said it himself. Maybe she did tell him and he was just trying it out on her, to see if the things she said were true?"

Dean's brow furrowed and he turned to walk the room as well, placing his hands in his pockets.

"So, he knows....and he's telling other people. That means that it's almost that time," he sighed, his face becoming grave. His brother took a hands and rubbed his face, shaking his head. "How are we gonna figure out who this is Sammy? We got to do this soon and fast."

He knew that; their time with the Stuarts was coming to an end. Only a few days with them, and he already was attached. Sure, it had always been sad when Abby would retell her story, but now after truly knowing the people...it was going to be hard. There was no doubt about that.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

"Deal with this. Deal with her--she's gonna get hurt. Bad."

"Dean, she already was hurt," he whispered. "This has already happened."

"But she doesn't deserve it," he whispered fiercely.

"Who does? Why do bad things happen to good people, Dean? We don't know. But one thing I do know; we can't change it. Cas said so. Sure, we're here, but it's gonna happen."

"What if we change it, Sammy?"

"Dean--"

"We weren't supposed to defeat Lucifer either or screw over Zachariah, but we did. So, why can't we do this?"

Sam looked curiously at his brother, truly hoping that the stress and strain of their task wasn't cracking him.

"Dean, can I ask you something," he questioned. Dean nodded. "What if we could change this? What if we did make it a happy ending for her here; you know that would mean there's a minimal chance you would ever meet, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he admitted matter-of-factly. "I know that. I know that if her family survived here, she'd stay with them, probably get married to a nice Lamia boy and pop out a couple of Lamia kids. I know that if she didn't go through this, she wouldn't have left out on her own. God knows she wants to, but she won't."

"So, you'd be happy not knowing her? Not having your kids? Would _you _be happy," Sam asked, moving closer to face his brother.

Dean's grief filled eyes met his own.

"It's not about me, dude. But yeah...I love my kids, and god knows I love her. It just--I don't want anything to happen to her, and I can't stop it."

Sam sadly smiled and patted his brother on the shoulder, leaving his hand in a tender gesture.

"I get it, Dean. But, we gotta do this. Just remember, _your _Abby is waiting for you at home. No matter what happens to her here, no matter how bad, it leads her to Chicago that night we met her. It leads her home."

Dean softly smiled, wiping his face.

"Thanks, Sammy," he replied, his eyes taking on more determination. "You go try to find that letter downstairs. I'm gonna make a trip to the Doc's house."

"Dean-," Sam started to warn him, sure that his brother was going to do something stupid.

"Trust me," he put his hands up, a gesture for Sam to call off his dogs, "I'm not gonna do anything to him. Just wanna check out his office to see if we can find anything out about this mystery woman, alright?"

The older brother turned and walked out the door before Sam had a chance to argue.

* * *

April made sure to keep her shield close as she took a nap in the crook of Jesse's arm. He had been reading her the book assigned for her English homework, "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" by Mark Twain. She didn't find it all that interesting. Jesse, on the other hand, seemed to quite enjoy the story. He was so embroiled with the plot, he hadn't realized she drifted off.

His voice softly floated off into the background, becoming more and more distant until his musical, drawled accent was barely audible.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but darkness before a scene abruptly popped into view. She looked down at herself, admiring the silky plum dress adorning her body. April spun around, watching the purple shift shades in the dim light of the room.

"April," a man called to her. His voice was familiar. She raised her gaze to his; green meeting a brilliant blue.

Jesse stood in front of her, looking devastatingly stunning in a tux with one arm behind his back, and put his hand out to her.

"May I," he asked politely, his palm open and waiting.

She answered by placing her own hand in his, squeezing his slightly, smiling. He grinned back at her, his face alight with happiness.

He wrapped his arm reverently around her waist, placing her against his body, her left hand still tenderly placed in his. Jesse began to sway with the music.

"Aren't you glad I made you come to prom," he chuckled softly in her ear. "You're the most beautiful one here, you know."

April blushed and looked around the decorated room. People danced around them, spinning and laughing below the hanging silver cardboard stars and balloons on the ceiling. White Italian lights twinkled around them. The mood was electric and everyone was having a great time. Hell, even _she _was. She knew she looked gorgeous, feeling very much like a goddess in her dress. April was confident, elegant and lucky enough to be in the arms of a man who was displaying nothing but love and adoration.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear.

Her heart could have burst.

She smiled, laying her head on his shoulder as they moved to the music, their bodies becoming one.

She opened her eyes and looked around at all the other happy couples.

And then her eyes caught his.

_He _was there, dancing with a lovely blonde haired girl. Her face was beautiful, her eyes warm as she smiled up at him. She laughed, her gaze only focused on him, as if he was all the existed in the universe.

Wes did not mirror her.

His eyes were vacant, lost in a fog, not focusing on anything in particular. It was as if he was possessed.

As she was musing on him, Wes' eyes focused more on her own. Her heart broke at his gaze, his eyes lost, almost watering as he stared at her. His dark eyes glittered with remorse, never veering from hers. Through the turns and glitter, they could always find each other's.

The blonde woman accompanying him tried to turn his attention back to her, her hand desperately trying to fix his eyes on her, but his look didn't falter.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to April, his eyes locking on hers, before he broke from the woman's grasp and ran off.

"Wes! Wes," April yelled in desperation as she tried to break away from Jesse, moving frantically to chase after Wes. "Jesse, Jesse, let me go!"

She continued to plead with the man, but instead, his grip grew stronger and more forceful.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you go," he sighed, his eyes also off in the distance. "This is for your own good, April."

"Let me go," she fought with him, watching Wes run away, the blonde happily skipping behind him. "Let. ME. GO!"

"April! April! _Wake up!_"

Gasping awake, she stared up only to view a startled Jesse hovering over her.

"Hey, you ok," he asked, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. "I tried to get in your dream to help you but…you wouldn't let me."

"I'm sorry," she said, her arms feverishly caressing his back, her face buried in his shirt.

To be honest, she was glad he couldn't see what she was seeing. The terror of Wes leaving was more overwhelming than the love that Jesse and her shared….and it had reopened the wound in her heart.

* * *

Dean made sure to be discreet, sneakin' between the tight alleys and passages of the town. Most of the good people were asleep. The bad people, however, were all out and about and as drunk as ever. He kept his hand close to the knife tucked in his belt.

He slipped into the alley he'd seen Doctor Death and Abby makin' out in the other day, remembering the Doc had retreated like a pussy back into his office by means of a back door.

Back against the wall and in the shadows, Dean slid to the door.

Damn it. Locked.

He slowly bent down, pulling a lock pick out of his pocket and began working on the mechanism.

Dean tried unsuccessfully to break in, before finally swearing and placing the equipment back in his pocket. Apparently, 18th century locks were harder to bust than 21st century ones.

He stood up only feel the barrel of a gun pushed against his spine.

"Get your back against the wall, thief, or I'll shoot."

* * *

Sam crept downstairs after peeking in on Abby. She was sound asleep, curled up into a ball on her bed.

From the looks of it, everyone else was still out and about. Whether they were hunting or not, or how long they planned to be gone, he didn't know. So he made note that he had to be silent, thorough and quick.

He searched an elaborate cupboard with dozens of drawers and cabinets…only finding expensive silver and dishes. Sam slid a chair over to the large fireplace, getting a better view of the top of mantle. Nope, no letter up there, not even in any of the vases and boxes.

With little time left, he hurriedly searched the remaining parts of the living room and dining room, trying to remember what Abby had said back in their time:

_'I was about to sneak out to rendezvous with William, when I saw the candlelight flickering in the…'_

"Parlor," Sam remembered, quietly heading towards the front room of the house.

He stood near the entrance, recalling that Abby had been peering around a corner the entire time.

So, the Stuarts were in the room arguing, before Ann walked to the fireplace, she either had the letter on her person or…Sam turned towards the small desk to the left of the entry.

His heart leapt as he opened the drawer to discover a letter.

With fumbling hands, he opened it and read the contents.

_My Dear Ann,_  
_I am quite taken aback that you would chose to deny correspondence. We will give you one more gracious offer in the form of a letter to take your rightful place, or_ she _will take it for you. If you refuse this, I regret to inform you that there will be dire consequences._

_I will see you shortly._

No signature. The only thing similar was the handwriting.

"Shit," Sam swore.

So, it was the same person writing these notes from both times…that couldn't be good.

"Wait, one _more _letter? I will _see _you shortly?"

_'It was hand delivered, Thomas. They're already.'_

Sam twisted around to the fireplace, dropping the letter in the process. Smoldering ash from a recent blaze smoked in the fire, some embers still glowing a dull orange.

His head spinning, Sam's heart sank to the floor as he bent down to find the remains of bubbling wax. It was a red, oozing mess sans one shape; a crescent moon.

"They were here already," he whispered. "They--Ann and Thomas must have come home when Dean and I were figuring out what do in the room…or when Dean was here alone with Abby for those hours…"

Which meant, Abby had already snuck out to see William when they thought she was asleep and managed to already return. She'd seen the letter burned. Apparently Ann and Thomas had left once the letter was destroyed, perhaps to go hunting. Either way, the vampires in the household were sneaky and extremely silent and had permanently foiled Dean and Sam's attempt at gaining access to the letter. The last letter anyway.

Only one meager scrap of paper was left in the pile of ashes, singed but not completely gone, revealing two very sinister words: _Farewell Ann. _


	21. Broken, Beat & Scarred

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me._

Dean deliberated as he faced the white coquina wall, the muzzle of a gun pressed uncomfortably into his back. Should he swing around and attack? There was a good chance he'd be able to knock the gun away before his assailant got the one musket shot off in time. Even so, guns weren't accurate, but, at that close range? Didn't seem like that was a smart move. Plus, he had promised Abby he'd be good.

Damn it all to Hell.

"I said up against the wall," the male voice snarled.

Fine. He'd be good...but he kept his hand by his knife, just in case.

"I'm not lookin' for trouble," Dean said as he carefully spun around to face his attacker.

"_You_," the man spat, "You little _fool_. You were you staking out my establishment earlier when you interrupted my time with Abigail. Ha! I should have known. I knew you were a _creep_ from the moment I set eyes on you. But why are you here now?"

Dean inhaled deeply, tryin' his best to hold back his temper. That was the jerk; the one who had and who _would _hurt his Abby. It took everything he had not to deck him right there...or worse.

He remained silent, refusing to answer the man's question. Why should he give him an answer? Fuck 'em.

"Answer me," the man pressed, putting the hard gun against Dean's chest.

He still didn't budge.

Finally, William had enough, violently pulling Dean forward by his shirt. As soon as the man had his hand on him, Dean had the knife in his grip. He quickly knocked the gun away and pushed William up against the wall across the narrow, dark alley, the knife precariously at his throat.

"Just give me a reason," Dean muttered to himself as he met the frightened eyes of the man. The blade was dangerously close to William's neck, already nicking the tan flesh. A droplet of blood began to spread and trickled down his throat towards his chest.

All the while, the ignorant prick didn't take his damn hand off Dean. In fact, he was pulling harder, the fabric of Dean's shirt taut against his body. What an idiot. There was a rip, and the front of Dean's top ripped open.

At once, the scene changed. Dean was still playin' with the idea of slicing the guy when William threw his head back and began to laugh.

"You--you're a _hunter_," William chuckled, releasing his hold. "I'm terribly sorry, friend."

_Friend? _No fucking way. Dean didn't let the knife drop.

"You bear the mark on your chest," he explained as he pulled a silver chain out from under his shirt. The medallion on the necklace perfectly matched the symbol tattooed on Dean's chest. "You wear the mark of protection. I'm sorry for having pulled a weapon on you. Can never be too careful, or so I am told."

_'You better let him talk, Dean,' _his mind said._ 'If he thinks you're on his side, he might spill alotta beans.'_

'Do it, Dean,' his ego spewed, 'He should pay for what he did.'

Unfortunately, rational thought won over the devil on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry," Dean apologized, trying not to cringe at the words he was about to say. "S'orry I pulled the knife on you. Like you said, can never be too careful, right?'

"Indeed," William replied, straightening out his own shirt and coat. "What brings you to my place of business so late this evening?"

"Just wonderin' if my inkling about _you _being a hunter was right. Guess I owe myself a beer," he smirked as he wiped the blood off the knife, tucking it into the back of his pants. "Just lookin' for clues."

"Oh you wouldn't find any in there anyway," William smiled. "I just found out about my heritage a week ago. If I would have known the Campbell family were involved in this, I surely would have followed their noble path. It was my parents who hid it from me, who destroyed my choice to be a hunter. I am only taking my rightful position in the fight against malevolence."

_'Campbell,' _he thought, remembering that it was also his mother's maiden name. _'Could they be related...nah. There was no way...right?'_

"And, what about youself," William asked, leaning against the wall across the way. "What brings you to St. Augustine, hunter?"

"Tracking down a woman. Maybe you've seen her? She wears a black cloak."

William's mouth went taut, he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"Perhaps."

"Gee, might help if you tell me where and when," Dean pressed. "Might make this a little easier, ya think?"

"Well, if we are sharing, then perhaps you'd be so kind as to divulge information regarding The Stuarts."

"_Fine._ The cloak girl, first. Who is she," Dean said, his heart racing. There he was, about to solve the mystery hundreds of years in the making...hopefully.

"A dark haired woman. She did not give me a name. She only said she was a messenger sent to spread the word that The Stuarts are evil spawns of Satan. Then, she gave me my birthright and told me it was up to I to stop it."

"Stop what," Dean pressed.

"The killings, of course," Campbell answered matter-of-factly. He described the recent string of murders that had started several weeks before. Young women, children, healthy young men all found drained of blood outside of town in the wilderness, obviously dragged there as they struggled to break free of their captors. "My friend, the wounds on the throats could only be done by one being; vampires."

"So you got it all figured out, right," he smirked at him. "You have cold, hard proof that it's The Stuarts?"

"I believe I do," he smugly replied.

"Well, I hate to break it to ya but...they aren't vampires, chief," Dean smiled. "You gotta be batshit crazy to think the Stuart family are bloodsuckers."

Maybe not the brightest thing to say, but at least he got some of that off his chest.

"You--you are no _hunter _if you could not recognize it. Their pale flesh, their graceful gait, their ethereal beauty. You would have to be blind not to pick up on those characteristics. Even _before_ the cloaked woman revealed their identity to me, I _knew _they were something else."

"Sorry, gramps," Dean shrugged. "You're barkin' up the wrong tree with them. Gotta get back though. Long night with Abby." With that, he turned around and walked away, well aware the douche was following him.

"It's _her_, isn't it," William laughed. Dean stopped. "It _is_. You _fancy _her; Abigail. You're protecting her and her heathen family."

"Don't," Dean warned, pivoting around to face him. "I'm protecting a _girl _from an asshole. A crazy, sick sonofabitch taking advantage of a naive teen and takin' her to bed."

"Well aren't we up on The Cross," William smirked, approaching him slowly. "A cheap whore like Abigail? I'm sure you've already had a piece."

Dean's face flushed, his heartbeat thrumming through his body and into his brain. He couldn't think clearly, facing the man that he swore he'd hurt if he'd ever met the fucker. And there he was, talkin' bad about his woman.

"Abby is...loose with her morals," he continued on. "As it turns out, not only is she a cheap hussy, but she's a freak as well."

"She thinks you love her," Dean said. "I told her you were full of shit."

"Perhaps once, in the beginning I did, but what I realized was that I loved the escape from my normal life. I loved the _idea_ of her. But, who in their right mind would love an incorporeal being? Abby Stuart is nothing but a common, divisive, manipulative whore who would kill all of us if she had the chance. I'm just going to make sure she doesn't get it."

Unable to hold his rage back any longer, Dean charged at William full force. Just as he began to rush forward, William smirked, pulling out a pistol from his back pocket.

_Bang!_

He shot at Dean, missing his target by pure luck and shitty aim. So he continued his sprint to the enemy, bum rushing him with his shoulder and pushing him to the paved street with a heavy thud. Dean punched William's face, the blood from his nose splattering on his own hands as he continued on with the assault. He hit his face, his chest with ferocity, filled with a rage for the man who had violated his Abby. His hand pushed down on his chest, practically breaking William's sternum in the process. Dean couldn't help but smirk down at him as the man gulped on his own blood, writhing in agony at the battering.

Swiftly, he pulled the knife out again, placing it up to William's throat, fully intending to end it right then and there. Blood flowed freely down the scalpel onto his hand, distorting the reflection of himself in the glinting surface.

Would he just kill a human? Whether of not the guy was a complete dick didn't matter. He was still just a human who hadn't done anything--yet.

All he could picture in his mind as his hand grasped the dagger was the memories of Hell. Him slicing at the flesh of others, feeling gleeful at their spilt blood and chilling screams of redemption. Had he been driven to that point...back to being that Dean?

With a irritated sigh, he backed away from William, but remembered to give him a hard kick in the side for good measure.

That made him feel a little better.

"You go near her or touch her…fuck even _think _about hurting her or her family in anyway, I'll fucking end you," he said, wiping the blood off his knife on his pant leg.

He turned and walked away, heading back to the Stuart manor. Part of him was aching to be near her and protect her more than ever. After all, their time together in St. Augustine was short and he was gonna take advantage of anytime he had left with her...even if it was just to say goodbye.

* * *

"So you kicked his ass, huh," Sam smiled, tossing his worn out form on the bed. After Dean got the luxury of the mattress for a few days, it was finally his turn.

"Yep. He ain't pretty any more," Dean smirked, lounging on the chaise, his hands behind his head. "But this chick that was talking to him; she knows stuff about the supernatural. So that means she's either part of it or knows it. Considering the handwriting from both times are the same, my money's on same person. Over 300 years old...I'm banking on paranormal. Shifter, vamp, demon. She could be anything."

"But she knows their family from either now or knows _someone _in it. If they know anyone well, it's gotta be Ann. She must know this person somehow. But whoever it is knows Ann has a daughter. I'm guessing that's who the other 'she' referred to in the letter I found," Sam mused as he started to fall asleep.

"I'll take first shift," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam yawned. "They're not going to attack the house tonight. We know that."

"I know, but maybe this chick will end up comin' here for one more shot at Ann."

Sam wondered about that, but he felt that Ann's 'last chance' was at the dance. If she would have agreed to 'take her rightful place,' then the woman would have never given her that letter. Ann Stuart had made her bed and would have to deal with the consequences. If only she knew how truly dire they were.

"I don't get it," Dean thought aloud. "I don't get what this rightful place business is. It's obviously important; important enough to kill for. But what the fuck does it mean?"

"Wait," Sam said, propping himself up on his elbows to look at his brother. "Didn't Castiel say something about Abby being royalty at one point?"

Dean's head snapped up, his body following suit, as he sat on the edge of the chaise, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Yeah, he did...a while back. Years ago. You think that's what rightful place means, Sammy?"

What else could it be? Ann ran away from her home in Europe, dragging Thomas with her...but why flee their home where they were rich and well-known? They were escaping their destiny. Or, at least, Ann was trying to escape hers. If Sam knew anything, it was you couldn't run from who you are; one day, it would jump up and bite you in the ass with out even knowing about it.

* * *

After having breakfast with Ann and Thomas, Dean found Abby on the balcony again the next morning. She 'wasn't feeling well,' and had refused to join the others.

"I'm sure she'll be feeling better shortly," Ann smiled, signaling the servant to clean up the plates. Dean had to laugh at the fact their hosts' plates were still mostly covered with food. But boy, did they have that pretend to be a human thing down pat. "Samuel, would you mind checking on my daughter?"

"Dear," Thomas cut in, "Didn't you want to speak to Samuel about something in private?"

"Oh, I forgot! Thank you, husband."

"Dean, would you mind seeing if my Abby is doing better," Thomas smiled at him, and nodded towards the stairs.

Gotta love the father-in-law.

He bounded up the stairs before the mother-in-law had a chance to dispute.

Her door had been left partially opened by her brother, who had visited earlier that day, only to leave in a great hurry.

"Can I come in," Dean asked. She nodded and gestured for him to close and lock the door.

She sat on the balcony railing in the sun, the rays doing nothing to her pale skin. She was wearin' a light pink dress, a color she wasn't accustomed to wearing at home. Strange. It was flowing, the skirt going from her feet to just under her bust line. Maybe it didn't accentuate all of her curves, but she still looked irresistibly beautiful.

"Good morning," she greeted him with a smile, gesturing to an empty chair across from her.

Dean smiled and took a seat.

"Mornin', Abby. Heard you aren't feelin' well," he asked, leaning in closer to her, resisting the urge to rub her knee like was used to at home.

She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly sad; the storm against the backdrop of the perfect Florida day.

"No, I am not well, Dean."

"Anything I can do to help," Dean offered with a shrug, sitting back his chair.

"Not unless you can take me away," she laughed, tilting her head back to look at the sky, her black hair dangling behind her in waves. He noticed her hand was spinning her bracelet on her wrist.

"Abby," he whispered, throwing caution to the wind and grabbing her wrist in his hand. His fingers gingerly caressed her hand up to her arm, where he was used to a scar from her near suicide incident. This Abby's flesh was supple and new; no marks on her. Even the gory fingerprints from the night before had vanished. "Are you still feeling sick from last night or--"

"Dean," she whispered his name like a prayer, "no--no it's not that. I've--I've gone and done it, you see. I've ruined everything I wanted. All my dreams I divulged last night are over. My adventure has already ended. I thought that I was just ill from being poisoned as a child--a late onset of nausea and complications…but alas--"

He looked at her, his head tilted in question as he continued to massage her bare skin.

"I'm with child, Dean," she whispered, her eyes refusing to meet his.

Those words brought back a slew of emotions from his own experience with her in his own time. So far, for all the times Abby had said those words to him, present time or past, it was with utter and complete sadness. That's _not _how it should be. There should be happiness, balloons, cigars, hugs…but for _them_, there never were any in the beginning. In the end, most definitely. They have the three greatest children anyone could ever ask for. But, in the beginning…

"Dean," her voice brought him back, her eyes pleading with his, watering to the brim. "I can't fathom…"

"What, sweetheart?"

"Becoming a _mother_," she said the word like it was pure blasphemy, the tears finally sliding by her face. She slid off of the balcony onto the hard balcony floor and he instinctively fell down beside her, wrapping his arms around her cold body.

He let her cry, rocking her slowly, running his hand through her ebony locks.

"I'm scared," Abby sobbed. "I have no idea what to do."

"Well, what parent does, Abby," he chuckled from experience. "All first time parents struggle. There's no magical book on parenting."

"This ruins _everything_. This--this _thing_," she said with scorn which instantly shocked him. "This _thing _is going to destroy every plan of escape I've ever had. I'm trapped here forever."

"This doesn't change anything," Dean said in her hair, breathing in the fresh scent of lavender in her hair. "You can still go out on your own."

"Dean, _who _in their right _mind _would allow a single woman and an infant on a ship alone? No one. They would need an escort," she laughed at her circumstances. "And who would do that?"

"I would," he said with conviction. "If you wanna leave, I'll go with you."

She laughed, pulling herself away to look into his eyes, expecting him to be joking. Surely a man like him didn't just offer to take care of her and her illegitimate child? But, his eyes were sincere. Hell, he'd been there before. Didn't matter who the sperm donor was, all that mattered was the guy who stuck around to do the real job.

"Dean--I--I can't ask you…"

"You didn't ask. I offered," he smirked. "I'm serious. Me, you and Sammy. We'll go north to Boston."

"And the baby," she asked, still looking at disgust down at her stomach, his own twisting in knots at her obvious disdain at her condition.

"We'll say it's mine…if you don't mind of course," he cleared his throat.

"I--I don't know. What about William--"

"Fuck him," Dean blurted out before he could register what he was about to say in front of the lady. "What I mean is… Abby, he doesn't love you, alright? Just like I told you last night. He won't care about that baby either-"

"But he's the father, Dean. He ought to know!"

_'Huh, and then years later she wouldn't tell the father. She's all gung ho right now. Interesting.'_"James doesn't think I should tell him either," she admitted, Dean pretending to look shocked that she told him. "He's my brother, Dean. I had to tell someone. James told me not to tell William. That we'd, as a family, move somewhere and can pretend I am a widow who lost her husband while she was pregnant. But I don't want to go with my family. If I am forced to raise this…_baby_…then I would like to do it on my own."

Dean reminded her, whether or not she was on her own, she'd always have both of the boys at her side if she wanted them to join her. They could protect her. Plus, Dean had some good child rearing skills. She didn't pry into it further.

"Whatdya say," Dean asked, taking the back of her hand to give it a kiss.

She gasped at his touch, suddenly pulling his face to hers and kissing him fully on the mouth.

"Yes," she whispered, her breath cool against his lips. "Yes. I'll go with you."

"Awesome," he smiled. "But that means you have to promise me one thing."

"That is?"

"You can't tell William. Not. At. All. We'll leave tonight, Ab. Until then, you stay here. Got it?"

She nodded with a smile but for some reason, he didn't believe her.

* * *

"Dean," Sam scolded as they talked outside the manor. They'd just gotten back after spending the day in town, searching for the cloaked woman with no luck. And then Dean had revealed his little plan for them to run off with Abby to safety. Yeah, that was a smart idea.

"I know--I know! I know I shouldn't have, Sam, I had to do _somethin'_, alright?"

"What if this works? What if she leaves with us? Are you willing to accept the consequences of your actions," he asked his older brother.

"Yes. I'll take whatever punishment I have comin', Sammy. **You **weren't there. You didn't see her. I did what I felt I had to do."

"Fine," Sam said, walking back to the house.

Wasn't his fault that his dumbass brother never actually thought before he made a goddamn decision. No, it was only Sam had to struggle along and pick up the pieces, just like he did after Dean had sold his soul to save him. Typical, short-sighted Dean.

"Where you goin," Dean asked, setting off after his brother towards the Stuart's house.

"To talk to Abby, _alone_," Sam said, as Dean ran to catch up to his brother's longer stride.

"Woah, Sam. Back the fuck up--"

"No, _you _back up, Dean! I need to ask her something, alright. You stay **here**. "

Sam opened the door and headed up the familiar stairs to the last bedroom on the right.

Knock. Knock.

"Abigail?"

He pushed the door open with caution.

"Abby," Dean asked, right at his brother's heels.

No answer.

They both entered the room to find it neat and in tidy order. The only thing out of place was a trunk of her belongings on the floor near her bed. On top of it was a letter addressed to Dean.

_My dearest Dean,  
__I'm sorry. I had to tell him. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't let him know he was a father. Please forgive me. I will return shortly and then we can leave on our adventure. __  
__You have no idea how much I treasure your friendship, even only after this short time together.  
__With love,__  
__Abigail._

Sam watched as Dean's hands crumpled the parchment, almost hearing his brother's mind snap. Tossing the letter down, Dean violently swung the door open, running down the hallway.

"Dean! Dean," Sam called after him, his brother running faster than he'd ever seen before. "Dean! Slow down."

Dean ran to the barn, grabbing two horses by the bridle and pulled them over to Sam.

"We gotta hurry," Dean said as he hopped up on a black horse. Sam put his foot in the stirrup, tossing his leg over the gray one his brother had brought him.

On their horses, the pair headed towards the town, Dean always pushing his horse one step ahead of Sam's.

Was it worth it, Sam asked himself. They knew the result. They knew what would happen. Why was Dean so determined to try to right it? Or, why was he rushing to witness it?

The noise of the horse hooves sounded different, signaling the transition from turf to stone. They had arrived in the city. Sam watched as Dean tried to hustle the horse through the town, only to find most ways blocked by people.

"Damnit," his brother hissed, jumping off of the horse, tying her to a hitching post.

"Dean," Sam called after his brother, already losing him in the crowd.

He continued to call after him, as he got himself off of his horse, searching for him in the crowd. He only prayed that he wouldn't cause any more damage than he already had.

Finally he saw him, speaking with a familiar face: James.

"What are you babbling on about," James asked, looking at Dean like he was crazy. Truth be told, he probably was.

"The doc is gonna hurt Abby, James," Dean said, unwisely grabbing onto the already irritated vampire's collar. "You gotta help her. Where'd they go?"

"Take your hands off me..._now_," the vampire hissed at Dean, shrugging his grasp off of him. "What do you mean by hurt?"

Dean went on, not going into to much detail, but telling him that Abby was in extreme danger.

"This isn't funny," James said crossly.

"It's not a joke, James. Look, he's dangerous and he's gonna freak when she tells him she's preg--"

"She told _**you**_," the vampire asked, tilting his head in bewilderment.

Dean nodded.

"James, this is important," Sam broke in, "Do you know where they are?"

James looked around, shifting his eyes from one street to the other.

"I don't know," he admitted with a sigh, running his hand through his mahogany hair. He put a finger over his lips and gestured for them to go into an alleyway for privacy.

"Look," the vampire whispered. "I only arrived here a while ago. My sister believes I'm at home, stalling my parents on her whereabouts. I couldn't let her meet this...fiend alone. I'm only down here because I don't trust him."

"So you have idea where they're meetin'," Dean pressed.

"No," he scowled. "If I did, I would presently be there and not wasting my time with you."

Dean and James stood facing each other, both angry, irritated and itching for conflict.

"Guys," Sam snapped. "We gotta find her **now**. Any ideas?"

_'They used to meet somewhere...where,'_ Sam pondered, trying his best to jog his memory.

"James, do they meet somewhere for their...meetings?"

"_Meetings_," he scoffed. "Not likely they'd be at his house with his wife present, is it? I don't know for sure. There are several inns here in town. Could be any of them, or at a house of a friend."

"We'll split up," Dean said, "Just point me in the direction of an inn and we'll go look."

"Are you just going to knock on people's doors, Dean," James scoffed.

"If that's what it takes to keep your sister safe? Then yes. Come on, Sam," his older brother reacted as James pointed down the street towards an inn. James took off in the opposite direction, slowly making his way to the hotel. From his deliberate sluggish pace, he didn't believe them.

As they rushed towards the building, a being blurred through the shadows on their left. From the shape of it, it had to be male.

"James knows," Dean gulped as he raced to the building. "Remember the story, Sammy, he can smell her blood!"

His heart thrumming in his chest, the beat all he could hear, Sam chased after his brother as they entered the hotel and dashed up the wooden staircase.

Before he knew what he was doing, he ran straight into Dean's back who was paralyzed with what he saw. Sam didn't need to look to know that if it startled his big brother, it had to be bad.

* * *

It always surprised Dean how much blood was in one small person. You never really knew until it was out of them and spilling onto the floor like some cheap horror movie. But, there it was…and it wasn't on film. In a movie, you could detach yourself emotionally from the action and the horror of it all. Couldn't do that when the person who was gushing blood was the one you loved.

He watched as James gasped, trying to revive his sister.

Abby's eyes were half open, the only movement in her body was the constant twitching of her right hand. Her body was strewn awkwardly on the bed, her limbs akimbo in a way that looked painful. Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed, her dress and the bed near them soaked with blood and spilt red wine.

If that wasn't bad enough, the heap of bloody tissue in the corner revealed what Dean already knew; the baby was gone…and so was the Abby he'd learn to care for during his time in the past.

"I'll kill him," Dean swore with quiet determination. "That sonofabitch is dead."

James was too consumed by the ailing Abby to agree with him.

Dean stepped back, letting James take control of the situation regarding his sister. He was too overwhelmed to help.

"We need to get her out of here," James said, lifting his sister up as she groaned in pain. "I'm going to bring her home."

"You can't do that," Sam said. "Go anywhere but home."

"Why not," James asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They're already there," Dean said.

"Who? Will one of you explain to my why I shouldn't rush home and fetch a doctor?"

"Take her somewhere where she can heal quickly," Dean said, his eyes never leaving the gaping wound across Abby's abdomen. "Don't go home. William's already gathered up the other hunters."

"Wh-what?! You expect me to believe--"

Before he could even finish, James was gone, taking Abby along with him.

"What an idiot, Sammy. He's gonna look anyways," Dean muttered.

"Then when he sees the house burning, he'll take Abby to that house in the woods. If we get on our horses, we can meet them halfway."

Dean gulped and nodded, turning around and walking down the stairs, trying to appear like nothing was going on. His chest was tight and he was in a daze, still reeling from seeing her like that. Not that he hadn't seen her banged up before, but what he had just seen was...coulda been the worst thing he'd ever saw in his life.

...Maybe.

They began walking together in silence, the smoke from the Stuart's house visible in the distance.

_'I'm sorry,'_ he thought. '_I'm sorry I let this happen. Maybe if I wouldn't have pissed off William, he wouldn't have attacked so soon.'_

They walked about ten feet into the woods before a blur appeared in front of them once again.

"Samuel, Dean, take my sister," James hurriedly ordered, placing a still bleeding and unconscious Abby in Dean's arms. "I have to go check on my parents."

Before they could argue with him, he disappeared from sight.

Dean gazed down at Abby, her lifeless eyes rolling into the back of her head. Still cradling her body, he knelt down on the damp ground, holding her head and balancing her body on his thighs.

"Hey, sweetheart," he whispered down at her, sliding the bloodsoaked hair on her face behind her ears. "You'll be ok."

It was true. He knew she would. He wished she was strong enough to see into his thoughts; maybe she'd be less frightened.

"Sammy, give me your coat," Dean ordered his younger brother.

Without a sound, Sam handed him the jacket. He grabbed it, asking Sammy to hold her up slightly, as he tied the jacket tightly around her midsection. She grunted in pain.

"Shh..it's ok," he consoled, still straining the fabric against her wound. It would hurt for a while, but better the wound be closed off than open.

The fabric of Sam's tan coat was already turning a grisly burgundy.

"Hold her," Dean said, carefully handing her to an already kneeling Sam.

He removed his own coat, tying another barrier around the broken girl's midsection. That's all they could do for her; try to stop the bleeding and pain as much as possible and be there for her.

Dean gestured for his brother to return his burden.

He took her into his arms and cradled her close. Surprisingly, her eyes fluttered open; she was regaining consciousness. He didn't really know if that was a good thing.

She groaned, her eyes filled to the brim with tears.

"Shh, don't talk, babe," he forced a smile. "Don't move. You'll be alright. Your brother is comin' back, ok?"

Abby sighed and slipped back into unconsciousness.

There was a rush of wind and Abby was already out of his arms.

"James," Dean yelled after him, seeing the man running in the distance.

He didn't answer or slow down.

Dean nodded to his brother and they both jumped on their horses, galloping quickly after James. With every hoof beat of the horse on the ground, Dean had the urge to turn back. In his cold heart, he wanted to kill William.

It was his only chance to teach the douchebag a lesson...and after years of stewin' in the fantasy of it all, he had the opportunity and motive. He be damned, but he was gonna take it.

Dean quickly stopped the horse and turned him around, heading him back towards the city.

"Dean," Sam yelled after him.

"Follow them and make sure they're ok, Sammy. I'll catch up. I got somethin' I gotta do."

* * *

"Dean, what are you up to," Sam muttered to himself, as he hustled his horse into the distance.

Mile after endless mile of dense wood had finally turned into a wide clearing. Set inside the meadow was a small, abandoned looking house, the glass window panes reflecting the moonlight.

Jumping off the horse, he rushed to the house, cautiously knocking on the door.

Of course no one was going to answer.

Sam jiggled the handle slightly and gasped.

A hazy form zoomed from out of no where and pinned him hard against a nearby tree.

Frightened, he looked down to see James, his canines extended, hissing at him with a rage that ran deep.

"YOU," he spat. "What are YOU doing here?"

Sam explained that he had followed him out, that he wanted to check on him and his sister.

James squeezed his hands more tightly on Sam's throat.

"Please," he gasped. "I didn't have anything to do--"

"But you _knew_," James growled. "You _knew_...what--_who _are _you_?"

"If you put me down, I'll explain everything," Sam calmly replied.

James was clearly conflicted. Should he trust him? Why should he, when his sister was approaching her death in the other room?

"If you do anything to hurt me or my sister, I'll make you pick up your gun and shoot yourself in the head. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded right before falling to the ground with a thud.

"Come with me," James said.

He opened the door and gestured for him to come in. Sam remained silent as he crossed the small threshold of the house. Well, it was less of a house and more of a well-kept shack. The perfect decoy.

In the corner, curled up in a ball on a small bed was Abby. She was shivering and covered with a thin blanket.

"How did you _know_," James pressed, his face only inches from his own.

"We knew what you were...but we never wanted you or your family hurt, James. We were protecting you form other hunters."

James tossed his head back and laughed, putting both hands in his hair, desperation across his face.

"I warned Mother, when you two arrived, that she was inviting death into the house. Between my feelings of terror and Abby's dreams I _knew _something bad was going to happen. And my mother brushed it off as nothing. May she rest in peace."

The grieving vampire choked down a sob brewing in his throat as he pulled at his hair, finally releasing his strands and tossing his arms to sides.

Abby moaned and he automatically went to her side.

"I've got to get her to a doctor, Sam."

"I'll leave.. Good luck to you…and I'm sorry, James. We truly didn't mean for this to happen," Sam said. "Look, why don't you take her to a doctor. If they show up here looking for you, I'll send them down a different way. Ok?"

"Why should I trust you," James hissed as he cradled Abby in his arms.

"Because we're all you have left."

* * *

Dean stood by the town gates that lead to Abby's old home, which by then was reduced to burning rubble and ash.

The hunters had all been dispersed, most likely to search for the one who got away. After all, William thought Abby was a done deal. The only one missin' was Jamie.

Over the dune he could see the asshole's smug grin. Blood was still splattered over his clothes, the sweat dripping down his face from the intense heat of the blaze. There was absolutely no remorse. No sadness. He was the most evil lookin' thing he'd seen in a long time.

Dean didn't say anything as he approached him.

Williams eye's widened as he tried to pull a weapon from his belt. When he had his fist raised with a weapon, Dean shot at his hand, the enemy's weapon quickly knocked away.

With a deadly smirk, Dean approached him, pulling out his knife.

Good, William was preoccupied looking for a new weapon.

A quick arc of his arm, and William's wrist was bleeding.  
_  
__'This is it, I'm gonna finally do it,' _Dean smirked

As he pulled back his knife to go for William's chest, there was an eerie flash of light, and he found himself back in his living room…300 years later.

"Sam," Dean called, rubbing his eyes and searching around the room.

"Over here," Sam said from the couch on the other side of the space.

"You ok, bro?"

A small squeeze on his shoulder caused him to flip around.

"Easy Dean," Cas soothed. "You're back."

"We had to bring you back, Dean," Anna stepped in. "We couldn't let you do what you were about to do."

"Anna! Cas," Gwen called from the top of the stairs. "Abby's awake and doing better. I put her in the bathtub to relax. Hey guys. Welcome back."

Anna turned to him, placing his hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Go to her, Dean. She needs you."

With that, he rushed up the stairs.


	22. Time Stand Still

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

Abby welcomed the soothing sounds of nothing, her head fully submerged underneath the warm water.

She was floating in weightlessness, savored the simplistic echo of nothing. For just a moment, she didn't exist.

Except she knew very well that eventually, she'd have to float up and face whatever was coming to her.

With a gasp, she slid against the back of the tub, sitting upright with her back against the chilly, white porcelain. She pressed a button on the side and the bubbles started up almost instantly. She did adore that tub; one of life's many little pleasures.

Her body sank down slightly, her head resting against a towel Gwen had rolled up for her and placed behind her head.

After her apparent near freak out by the end of the hypnosis session, Gwen had helped her out of it, pulling her mind to safety and told her she needed to maintain a mental status of relaxation.

So, off came the clothes and on came the Jacuzzi tub, lavender oil and scented candles. Abby had to laugh at how sensual it had seemed at the time.

"I'm not tryin' to make a move on you, Winchester," Gwen had laughed. "I'm just trying to make sure you're not going to jump on a knife, ok? Try to stay calm. I'm going to see what's going on downstairs. Call if you need me. K?"

She sighed, trying to relax, only finding that it was quite impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, the new memories that were just recently uncovered inundated her mind. It was as if each flash, each slight instant, had happened not that long before.

Her view was taken to reality by the sound of familiar footsteps bounding up the stairs. He didn't even bother to knock on the door.

She knew who it was before he entered, but it still shocked her at how good he looked.

He was still dressed in costume…and it was a mess. Guess Gwen wasn't going o get her deposit back.

Dean gulped a little, his eyes watering, the rest of his face stone.

She sweetly smiled up at him, her lips partially hidden by the surrounding bubbles.

"I'm sorry, baby," he hurried over to the side of the tub. Dean fell down beside the basin, lifting her out of the water tight to him. "I'm so sorry."

Against her will, her arms were already wrapped around him. Something deep inside was afraid of his return, terrified of how he'd look at her now that he _knew _how she had reacted. Hell, she hated herself.

She greedily took in his scent, kissing his neck and face with a fervor that shook her very core. Her body was secondary to what she was experiencing. Fuck, was she crying? By the feel of Dean's arms tightening around herself, she was sure of it.

The want for him was uncontrollable and not merely sexual in nature. Abby _needed _him; all of it and all at once. His body, his mind, his soul…_everything_. Not to sound cheesy, but she didn't exist without him.

It had felt as if _years _had gone by since the last time she'd seen him; even more so than his time in The Pit. It had practically unbearable.

Her dripping, soapy arms wanted to consume him and make them one. Funny, but before she realized she was completely losing it, he was already practically pulled into the bathtub with her. At least he didn't seem to mind.

Abby kept her mind closed off and shielded tight, not wanting to see the warped images of herself in Dean's mind. No, she _couldn't_…or she truly would give up.

Her body shuddered with sobs, her emotions barely controllable.

"Shhh, babe, it's ok," he soothed, making her lay back in the tub.

_Was he leaving her? Where was he going?_

"Don't go," she irrationally shouted, her hands reaching out to him.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," he reassured, walking into the master bedroom. She could clearly hear the lock of the door. He reentered the master bath, clad only in boxers, shutting and latching the entry behind him. "I just don't want an audience."

His body was one of the most magnificent things she'd seen in what seemed like a very long time….and then he took his boxers off. Double that first impression. He was….wow. And he was all hers…maybe. She was waiting for the "you're way too fucked up for me. see ya" speech she knew was about to happen.

"Scooch," Dean ordered, pushing her forward slightly and slid in the tub behind her, pulling her back to rest against his chest.

His arms wrapped around her, his fingers gently caressing along her bicep down to her forearm and then back again.

They didn't speak. Silence said everything. Both had seen and experienced something so horrible...it would take some time to come to grips with it. Even though she had lived it long before, she had forgotten and now that she remembered, she realized that ignorance truly was bliss.

Neither talked for quite some time, the only sound being the dripping water from the facet. When the water seemed too tepid, she'd let some out, and refill with hotter water before she laid herself back against Dean's protective embrace.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the rise and fall of the chest against her skin, the way his fingers caressing her flesh, the feel of his cheek resting on her hair.

Abby wasn't sure how long they laid there together in peace, but one of them was bound to break the calm.

"This feels so good," Dean laughed. "You people were gross back then, never takin' a shower or bath. Scummy folks."

Abby laughed in spite of herself.

"Yeah, we didn't live the cleanest lives," she smiled. "Are you informing me that I smelled back then?"

"Uh...no--no..."

"Liar."

"No, honey, you always smelt good. Believe me," he said.

And then they stopped. Abby wasn't sure of where it would go next. She had conflicted feelings about the emotions her younger self had had for Dean. That Abby, the seventeen-year-old ball of spunk, had thought of Dean as a potential lover and companion; mate, for better lack of the word. Mostly, in the beginning, he had been a welcome escape. But, with his kindness and warm smile came a deep longing for him. Even when she was skipping over to say adios to William that fateful night, she'd been warm with the prospect of Dean waiting for her at home. Sure, he'd be angry, but she'd get to be with him. She had started to fall for him...and hard. Maybe it was his open arms....maybe it was his gentleness...maybe it was the fact that he was one of the only males in her life that had treated her like a person. Either way, she loved him.

Abby couldn't remember much after her ordeal and the disorientation caused by the halt of her aging process. The only thing she recall before the hypnosis was that she'd been hurt, she'd gotten her parents killed and there was an ache in her chest; a hole. She always thought it was because of the loss of her child. Now, she wasn't so sure.

She'd traveled for years, discovering men along the way, but none that had made her feel like...like what? Abby had always known it had never been William that she had been comparing them to. Never. But _who_? Now she knew. It had always been Dean.

She'd married Nathaniel Allen because he reminded her of him, whoever _he _was. Sure, his eyes were the wrong color, but he'd been close enough. He had that same warm heart. Hell, she even thought that he'd understand what she was if she ever revealed her true nature to him. Abby had always believed Dean would have. But then, she'd been wrong about poor Nathaniel. After his passing, she had sworn not to become attached to another human.

Caleb had just been something to settle on. He was strong, handsome, Lamia and cared about her. That's all that mattered.

And then there was that night. The air in the club had been electric. She'd just finished her dance up on stage and was reading someone's mind; and it was like a spark. Something inside her opened, ripped and tore at the same time. Abby looked up, seeing the back of his head, and already knew...

_'His eyes are green,'_ she had said to herself, with the strongest conviction she had ever known. And, she thought it had been the strangest damn thing she had ever thought.

When he turned around, with that cocky ass grin plastered on that beautiful face and she saw his eyes, part of her wanted to cry.

After all that time, after all those years, the emptiness began to subside. Well...only slightly. The Dean she met in the club was significantly more abrasive than the one she met in St. Augustine. Of course he would be; she didn't know he was younger and more frisky, not the family man she had met in her youth.

Her years of turmoil and self-loathing had turned out to be good for something. It had brought her back to him.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know."

"And...," he tilted her head back, smirking down at her.

"I love you too, Dean. You have no idea how much I adore you."

"I missed you ," he sighed, his fingers tracing her bottom lip.

"Hey, I was _there_," she teased, nibbling on his finger tip.

"Not the same. You were right...you were…_different_. Naive doesn't even begin to tell it. If you had been my daughter, I would have locked your ass up."

"I'm glad I met you...or could remember meeting you at the club more so than in my own time. You were the antithesis of what I was after, but you were still...perfect for me. Made for me. What I needed during _that _time in my life."

"Can't say I was ready for ya," he admitted, his hand stroking her hair. "I wasn't ready to settle down yet."

"I noticed," she joked.

"I don't think you were either, babe," he chuckled, kissing the top her head. "But, the more we kept hangin' out, the more I could picture it--but I kept thinking about my life putting yours in danger."

She twisted around in his arms slightly so she could more clearly see his face.

"Well, I was in the same lifestyle--"

"Exactly," he said. "I guess that's what changed it. I mean--I'll always feel responsible for you. My badass vamp still needs protection. It's kinda my job, ya know? Even though we do the same thing, if anything happened to you...it would still have been my fault. That's just how I felt--feel about it. Still feels the same I guess. i didn't want to make you another casualty of knowing a Winchester."

"What? And sleeping with a vampire was good for your health," she raised an eyebrow. "Let's see who was on a more destructive path there, Dean?"

"I trusted you."

"You shouldn't have."

"How so?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I could have been playing to your flaws? Making something you'd want by reading into your thoughts? Becoming your fantasy? My kind has the ability to perform the ultimate seduction."

He looked down at her, his eyes a steely green, searching the depths of her endless black.

"No. There's not one time that I thought you were lyin' to me or tryin' to get at my arteries. I woulda seen that comin' and probably taken you out if that were the case. Besides, I could read you too. I could see who you were, babe. Huh.."

"What,"

"Funny how much you've changed. I mean, you're still _you_, and now I can see that girl when you get goofy, but you're SO different."

"Time does that to people. You see people die, you witness wars, chaos, prosperity, depressions, tragedies...you change. You develop. Your priorities evolve."

"Like you wantin' kids?"

Snap. Conversation over. She shut up like a clam.

"Abby--look, we don't have to talk about it, ok? I probably shouldn't have brought it up at all...but I know that's what you were worried about me seein'. It's just...it doesn't matter, alright? You were young. Why would you think that I'd be upset about--"

"Because I said I didn't _want _it, Dean. I called it a _thing_. I wanted it gone," she said defiantly. "I wouldn't have been surprised if I would have tried to toss myself down a flight of stairs--"

"Hey," Dean said, his eyes stern. "Knock it off. I know why you said what you said. Let's put it this way; would you expect April to act any differently at her age? Would you want her to want a kid right now?"

"Well, if she were pregnant, I guess I'd want her to want it…I don't know. I guess only if she wanted--," she couldn't even finish her own reasoning.

"Bingo," Dean said. "It's a shitty thing to try to figure out, right?"

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.

"There," he kissed her forehead. "I don't think any less of you because of that. Don't know why you'd think I would. You've done a lot worse. Nothin' is ever gonna change how I feel about you, Ab."

"I don't deserve you," she kissed his neck.

"No, you don't," he joked. She stopped kissing and lightly nipped at his neck. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

She leaned her head back, tilting it so she could look into his eyes.

"What," he asked, that adorable smile on his face.

"Kiss me," she smirked.

* * *

"Dammnit, Becky, pick up your fucking phone," Dylan yelled into the receiver. She still wasn't picking up. He'd gone past the point of just being mad. Now, he was absolutely fucking terrified. It would be one thing for her to not answer _his_ calls, but for her to ignore her _folks _as well? Something was wrong. Really, wrong.

He was close to where he had left her on the side of the road. If anything happened to her…

No sign of her anywhere.

Confused, his stomach twisted in horrible knots, he continued cruising forward down the road in the direction of Becky's house. Surely she had continued to head in that direction…

Something wasn't right.

He could feel…something….

Worry…sorrow…anger?

"Oh God," Dylan said, slamming on the brakes as the emotions hit him full force.

After gathering himself after the onslaught of emotion, he parked the car, having to brace himself as he practically tumbled out.

There was still a feeling emanating through the air. It was a feeling of pure…grief.

_'What is going on,' _he said, the tears automatically welling from the strength of the sentiment. Damn empathic abilities.

But…what if…

What if…

He walked towards where the feeling was radiating from, the very center of the emotional distress in the area.

The closer he walked, the more unbearable it became. Usually, there was never a sense that stayed, and if it did, he'd shield himself to retain his sanity.

But there he was, walking through a field of tall prairie grass, coming closer to something that was in pain; intense pain.

Closer. Closer.

His head thought it was going to cave in from the ferocity of the emotions.

Closer.

_There_. He was at the epicenter of it all, his mind about to snap. _What was feeling?_

He oddly noticed that some of the pasture was broken and tangled, as if there were a struggle of some sort. Pulling them apart, he came upon a scene more heart-wrenching than he could have ever pictured in his mind.

"Oh god….Beck."

* * *

Dean had her right where he wanted her; curled up naked in his arms. She was finally sleepin'. Thank god.

Abby was starting to get a little loopy, leaning towards delirious.

She had a good idea though; he hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since they'd been apart either.

And frankly, after an hour or so of the animalistic sex they just had…he was fucking exhausted. Hell, he would have been up for another round, if she woulda wanted it. Instead, she had sighed happily, wrapping her naked body around his. It wasn't long before she snoring. Damn vampire.

He chuckled at himself, kissing the top of her head. Dean knew she was smiling.

His fingertips traced the contours of her body, the lines of which were already burned into the back of his mind. He'd know her anywhere even if he were blind.

It was his girl. His wife.

God played a trick on him when the vampire walked into his life wearin' only lingerie. What a hot trick…but a trick none the less. How the hell could he have known she would be the greatest thing that ever happened to him? Well, guess that ties with getting' outta The Pit…and bringing his brother back from the dead….and then there were the kids. Well, she definitely was up there.

"How did I end up with such a cool chick," Dean whispered, moving the hair back from her face.

He still couldn't believe that beautiful face and body wanted to be with him. Compared to her, he wasn't nothin special. Sure, compared to the _rest _of the man-world, he was better lookin' than most. But she--hot didn't even begin to describe it. Come on, who after ten plus years of marriage and three kids still wanted to do it like teenagers? Them, that's who.

His eyes glanced down to her left arm, the disfigurement from years before still clearly visible. Funny how it represent more of a battle scar. A wound of pride. Abby of 1730 didn't have any yet. No, that wasn't quite true. After the things that doc did to her--

He couldn't think about it. He wouldn't think about it. Not when he had her safe in his arms. Not when those things that she went though, the life she had to endure, brought her to him. Dean never felt more grateful to anyone in his entire life.

"I love you, Abby."

* * *

"April, April what's wrong," Jesse called after her.

She couldn't stop. Something was calling to her, _deep _inside her. Something was very, very wrong.

"Wait up," he blurred in front of her instantaneously. "What is going on?"

"I--I don't," April said, searching the scene frantically.

"Ok, slow down," Jesse said, taking a hold of her shoulders. "When did it start?"

That's a good question. After her nightmare, she laid cradled in Jesse's warm, soothing embrace, reveling in the security of his arms. Then, without warning, she had a sudden urgency. She had to find….something? Someone? She wasn't sure, but before she knew what she was doing, she was up and running.

April knew Jesse wouldn't have been far behind.

A strange tug pulled at April again. It was a sense of panic. She had to go.

"Let go, Jesee," she ordered.

"No. Not until we talk."

"I said, let. Go," she ordered again, her words ice.

"No."

Before she knew what she was doing, she gathered up her powers and pushed them full force into Jesse, tossing him at least 20 feet back like a rag doll.

Free, she bolted towards the feeling. It was hurt. Wrath. Grief.

April blurred into a local field. Wheat, she believed.

'_Why am I in some random wheat field,' _she thought, zipping through the swaying plants.

_There_. She stopped. Not too far in front of her was the epicenter of the feeling. It was where it was laying dormant.

Stealthily she approached, well aware that it could be anything or anyone.

She approached crouching, her heart pounding in her chest.

It was now or never.

April bounded towards it, only to be struck mid-air and knocked to the ground.

**"I'll kill you!"**

She opened her eyes, trying to gain focus…and couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Dylan," she asked, the panic escalating. "Dyl, what's wrong?"

Dylan's eyes were like a predator's but they did begin to soften. His hands released her and he sank to the ground. She'd never seen her brother so weak before.

He slumped down, his eyes desolate. Dylan crawled over the ground to where the impression was coming from. He didn't utter a word as he spread the wheat apart in front of her.

"Oh god," April choked up, hustling forward.

Becky lay in a heap, her limbs splayed awkwardly on the crushed plants. She was as pale as a ghost.

Dylan inched over to her side, his face already glistening with tear stains. He shook her gently, urging his girlfriend to open her eyes.

"Come on, baby, come on," he desperately suffocated on his sobs. "Please?…_Please?!"_

Her head lolled to the opposite side, revealing the fading yet distinct double bite wound of a vampire. Someone had attacked her. She wondered if her brother had noticed the abrasions in his grievous state.

"Dylan," April calmly whispered, moving closer to him.

He clutched Becky to his chest, looking at his sister with scorn.

"Don't you come closer," he spat. "It was one of ...one you YOU who did this."

Yep, he was well aware.

"Dyl, brother, please...put her down."

Dylan wasn't going to listen.

_'Brother please,'_ she said, her thoughts full of hurt._ 'I'm your sister, Dylan. I would never hurt Becky. You know that...right?'_

He glanced away from her.

_'It wasn't me or Jesse. I'm trying to help here. Please will you let me...'_

She didn't know why he'd suspect her of hurting April. Why would he--didn't he trust her?

"April," a voice said from behind in her ear. "Are you alright?"

"No, Jesse," she muttered back. "Look."

She pointed across the broken ground to her sobbing brother, cradling a broken Becky.

"But, she's not dead," Jesse said matter-of-factly. "Listen..."

So she did, besides her brother's heart beat there was a faint Lub…and then an even fainter Dub.

Becky still had a heartbeat.

"Dylan, she's alive," April said, scrambling over to her brother's side. "She has a pulse. It's faint but I can hear it. We need to get her to the hospital right away."

Dylan stood, her body heavy in his arms, his face smeared with her blood.

"Brother, it would be quicker if I ran her there. May I," she asked, her arms outstretched to relieve him of his burden.

Dylan hesitated.

_'It's not you, April. I know it's not you,' _he sent his thoughts to her, a gentle caress on her mind. _'But I don't know who it is. But when I find them, they're dead.'_

He gently placed Becky in her arms, kissing the corpse-like skin of his beloved.

"Take care of her," he said. "I'll meet you at the hospital soon."

"Where are you going," she asked, taking a step to follow him.

"To find whoever did this to her."

"I'll go with you," Jesse suggested. "If it was a vampire, I'll be able to track them down for you."

"Good," her brother snarled. "Let's go."

* * *

"How are you feeling," Sam asked Ruby, his arm draped over her chest.

"Crappy," her head muffled into the pillow.

"My poor baby," he teased.

"Not funny, Sam."

"Did you go to the doctor yet," Sam hesitantly asked.

"Yeah. Everything is going good. Don't worry about it," Ruby sighed.

Problem was, he _did _worry about it, even more so after the events in 1730. Abby's parents tried _everything _to keep her safe; to keep their children safe. Look what happened. And still---how could a parent really protect their kids? How could he be a good father after all his dad did to them?

Hell, how did _Dean _do such a good job? His brother kept his kids relatively cloistered from all the crazy shit they grew up with. Dyl, April and Jamie all had a normal childhood. No real monsters under the bed. Could he do the same for his child?

"Sam?"

"Yeah," he said, kissing the back of her head.

"Would you want a boy or a girl?"

One thing at a time, he guessed. Maybe he should worry about the other stuff later. Perhaps somehow the knowledge would come to him through divine intervention?

"I don't care," he sighed. "As long as it's healthy."

"Ha."

"What," he asked in confusion.

"That's loser talk. The easy answer."

"What, and there's something you specifically want?"

"Yes," she said, flipping herself over to look at Sam. "I want a girl."

"Any reason?"

"I don't know," she smirked, her eyes looking bashfully down to her feet. "I guess I want all the frilly pink stuff...I mean, I'm not girly. I'm such a tomboy. But, just once I'd want to do that. Lame, I know."

"No, that's not lame," he smirked. "It's very cute."

"Really?"

"Yes, it is."

* * *

Abby stared up at the ceiling, her body still beyond exhausted. She felt over a thousand years old. Every new thing that had been revealed in her mind had taken a toll.

She smiled as Dean moved closer to her, his head resting on her shoulder, his arm draped over her as he slept on his stomach. Typical Dean.

_'Revel in this, Abby,' _she thought._ 'Here is a man that loves you for who you are...no matter what. He won't when he realizes you're lying to him.'_

_If_ he realized.

She had remembered more than she had let on. Although she wasn't a hundred percent positive, she had an inkling of who the cloaked woman was…and if she was right, it wasn't good. Nope. It wasn't good at all.

The thought of who it could be ate away at her. How could she protect her family if that was indeed who it was?

Her mother couldn't. Damn it, she did her best to protect her from her own destiny. And there it was, hundreds of years later, just breathing down her neck.

She knew what she had to do.

She knew what James meant in her dreams now.

She knew that meant she had only a short time left with her family. If it were true, she was going to enjoy every moment she had with them, until it was her time to give in to her destiny. Until it was time for her to step up and take her rightful place--all in the name of protecting her family.


	23. Nothing's Wrong

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

_**Author Note:** I'm so sorry for the long delay! Please forgive me! I had a tremendous amount of issues writing this chapter, as I've changed some very crucial events for the final story. This chapter is not long and, once again, I apologize for that.  
_

* * *

April sat in the sterile, ridiculously plain waiting room of the local hospital, having been unceremoniously barred after they escorted Becky to the Emergency Room.

So, she sat impatiently and waited for her brother to arrive and rush to his girl's side. Only, he wasn't showing up. It was very..._weird_. Extremely odd and definitely atypical of her undoubtedly reliable brother. He shoulda been there raising Cain already, trying to find out where she was, how she was doing--being proactive. To stay back? It just wasn't like him. It was way off base for his personality. She only hoped her brother had a good reason for staying behind.

On top of that, she was worried about that look in his eye when he'd first seen her in the wheat stalks. Couple that with his determined stare off into the wilderness afterward, and the man was semi-possessed. He was on a mission. She just hoped that if he couldn't avenge what happened that he'd still be ok.

April fidgeted in the hard plastic seat, trying desperately not to think of the looks on Becky's parent's faces when they had first arrived. She'd only seen it a few times in her life herself; it was the face of pure terror. It was as if they instinctively knew that something was terribly wrong with their daughter before the medical staff explained her prognosis. April clearly remembered when she had seen that same look on her mother's face right before Sam had to tell her about her dad's accident.

Her feet traced the hypnotic diamond tile, her toes always on the black shapes as opposed to the white. Forever on the darkness.

She didn't mean to start feeling bad about herself. But...the look _Dylan_ had given her. Her own brother had looked at her with such scorn and resentment. She knew how she had appeared to him; stalking her prey in the middle of the field. All she was now was a predator and, although she hadn't hurt his love, one of her kind had and it made her feel sick to her stomach. Could she fall so far off the wagon as to hurt another human being? _No_. She couldn't. Even with a bleeding, wounded and completely defenseless Becky in her steely grasp as she dashed through the woods to the clinic, she wasn't focused on the scent. She was only focused on the task at hand; to get the girl to safety as fast as possible. April was _strong_. She could beat the urge...or so she thought. What if she didn't feed enough? What then? It would have been easy to do it in the privacy of the forest. The poor girl's throat was already torn and bleeding. Perhaps she could have indulged in just a little taste...

"Uggh," she growled in frustration, getting up to go outside and take in some fresh air. She had to focus on something else. Anything else. Being stuck in a blood soaked hospital wasn't going to solve anything.

Perhaps it was best to focus on who committed the crime, and most importantly, why they targeted Becky of all people. It didn't make any sense but, somewhere in the insanity of it all was the answer. She just had to figure out all the pieces to put the puzzle together.

* * *

"Hey babe, get up. Just got off the phone with April," Dean said, springing out of bed and slipping back into his clothes. "Becky got attacked and she's in the hospital."

"Bec--ky," Abby yawned and stretched, tossing the covers from her body. "Dylan's Becky?"

"You know any other," Dean joked.

He zipped up his jeans and watched his wife get dressed, a feeling of remorse in the pit of his stomach. It was a sin for her to walk around in any bit of clothing.

"Attacked how," she stretched.

"A.C. didn't go into specifics but she said it's bad."

"How bad is bad," she went on, pressing like a detective to get all of the answers, like he knew stuff he wasn't divulging. Well...that was kinda true. He made sure to keep is thoughts blocked from her just in case, 'cause if she knew it was a vamp that did it, she'd be at the nest roundin' up the troops. After all, it was her job to investigate any attacks on humans in their territory. It wasn't allowed in their town. But right then, her job of being their for the kids was definitely more important. Mom first, super, kickass vampire-hunter second.

"Not sure," he lied. "But, it was somethin' supernatural. April thinks it'd be better if we go and figure what the hell did it. She thinks it would be better for people with more experience to check it out."

"Well why Becky? What the hell did it want with her," she asked, throwing a short sleeved vest over her white t-shirt.

"Don't know. Maybe whatever was targeting _you_ is targeting Becky--," instantly regretting his words, figuring he'd given away too much information. After all, besides the fact that she'd like to go bananas on whatever was leaving her cryptic letters on their doorstep, if it was actually targeting loved ones---yeah, she'd go nuts.

"That doesn't make a lick of sense, Dean," she rolled her eyes, almost laughing. "Why would it hurt _me_ to hurt _her_?"

"Maybe it wasn't meant to hurt you--directly. It's gonna hurt our son. You and I both know that."

Abby sighed. She knew he was right. Whoever the bastard was, cloaked or otherwise, couldn't get to himself and couldn't get to her. So, it changed plans, starting with someone outside of their immediate circle. It was a warning shot. Dean could see that from a mile away.

From the look in her eyes, Abby knew it too. She must have been completely off her rocker to think Dean didn't see it. That far off, guilty stare in those black pools. She knew something he didn't..._again_. Come hell or high water, he was going to find out what it was.

* * *

"This is where the trail ends," Jesse yelled far ahead of him, waving his arms to signal his position. Dylan forced his body forward through the agonizing burning sensations torturing his fatigued muscles

"What," Dylan gasped out of breathe. "This can't be it?! It had to have gone somewhere."

"I don't know what to tell you," the vampire panted, resting his back against a tree. "We've followed it to the end. There's no one here."

_It. Couldn't. Be._ There had to be someone--_something_--that was responsible. _Something_ that needed to _pay_ for what they did.

"Perhaps, you should go visit your beloved," Jesse respectively requested, lightly wiping his brow. The vampire had a small amount of visible swear compared to himself; he was soaked head to toe.

Maybe he should go to her side....but something inside him wanted something more. Wanted _revenge_. Wanted _blood_.

"How close is she," Dylan said, breathing out through his nose to try to keep control.

"Pardon?"

"How close was she to death," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Close," Jesse sighed. "But she is _alive_, Dylan. That's something. She'll need you; need your strength."

True. If she was still even al-....god, he couldn't think of it. If he did, he'd truly go insane.

"How can I help," Jesse asked, suddenly at his side.

"Find them and help me kill them," Dylan said, turning to the vampire. "You're the only one who can help now."

"And your sister," Jesse asked. "Perhaps she would be important on this endeavor?"

"She'd only get in the way and try to stop me."

"Why do you say that," Jesse probed. He stepped closer, his aqua eyes a steely blue. His gaze was looking past him; through him. "Ah. Because she's one of us?" Dylan shivered. "That's it, isn't it? She's a damned bloodsucker, correct? Just like me?"

Jesse took a step forward to face him, the speed and unnatural way he moved in the comfort of privacy was obvious. He wasn't exerting any effort to hide his true nature.

"You would believe your own flesh and blood to be a killer just like that," he fingers snapped in a blur in front of his face. "After all your sister has done for you....you're pathetic."

"Don't push me," Dylan said with force. "You wouldn't want to do this right now."

"Same here," Jesse smirked. "Don't you dare speak poorly of your sister, Dylan. I will defend her till the very end."

Deep down, Dylan regretted saying those words. April was his sister; his twin. She was his betterhalf. April had never done anything intentionally to hurt him or to withhold trust. But there was something about her eyes and the way she was practically sniffing the air. Something not April. Nothing like his sweet sister, no; it was completely carnal and animalistic. Predatory. And it had been a predator that had nearly killed his precious Becky. However compulsory his response might have been, it was almost instinctual to emit some blame onto her.

"Go to her," Jesse beseeched.

"I can't," he finally admitted as he tried his best to hold back the tears.

"Are you afraid?"

He let out a loud roar that he had swallowed down when he first found Becky's unconscious form.

"Yes! There are you _happy_?! _Yes_, I'm absolutely fucking terrified, Jesse!! I can't lose her! You see _this_," Dylan said, fumbling to pull a ring box out of his back pocket. He opened it up, revealing a small sapphire ring, flanked by ornately carved silver. The look on Jesse's face confirmed he understood. The vampire unintentionally gulped loudly. "You see _this_," he pushed forward, his anger overwhelming his senses. "_This_--this was going to be my promise to her. To be good to her. To protect her. _Protect_ her?" He paused, violently pulling on his brown hair as he paced, before turning to the vampire again. "_I_ let her walk out of my car in the middle of nowhere and I. Drove. Off. _Me_."

"Dylan," Jesse sighed, slowly and cautiously placing a hand on the human's shoulder. "Now is not the time to damn yourself. You want to protect her? You go to her. _Now_. Be present by her side. That's all you can do to keep her safe now. To honor her."

Jesse pushed Dylan forward slightly by his shoulder, leading him out of the woods. The vampire squeezed lightly and nodded to him, a silent comfort to the weaker human.

"We'll get them," Jesse whispered. "It might take a little sleuthing, but they'll be found. They _will_ be brought to justice, Dylan. I will personally guarantee it. But they will be brought to justice properly."

"By who," Dylan sneered. "The _police_? Come on."

"By _our_ proper authorities. Your mother is probably already on the case. The nest will bring down and punish whoever…or whatever was responsible. I know what you're thinking…but, revenge is not the answer."

"How would _you_ know," Dylan scoffed.

"Years of experience," the vampire smirked.

Ha. The bloodsucker was a joker.

Revenge may not solve anything, but it would make him feel a hell of a lot better than he did right then. He wanted to gut the thing. Tear it limb from limb so he could still feel it. Then he'd burn it; alive.

Yeah. That might do it.

But, what if Becky still....

He had a plan for that too. Dylan remembered something very important that Wes had told him once. No matter what, he'd protect her at any cost. That was his vow.

* * *

Dean was quiet, a little too quiet for Dean.

"Babe," she hesitated, placing a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were tense. "Hun, maybe you should let me drive home."

He grunted and swerved the car onto the shoulder, the dust from the road hazy around the car. Dean threw the car in park and turned off the engine, yanking the keys out of the ignition.

"Babe," she asked again, her voice wavering.

He was stone, barely breathing. It was a Winchester statue.

Without uttering a word, Dean got of the car and walked away.

"What is his problem," she hissed to herself in frustration, leaving the car to follow.

"Ow," she said, placing her foot down out of the car the wrong way. Damned rolled ankle.

"Do me a favor," Dean scolded, pausing his pacing momentarily. "Go wait in there. Don't hurt yourself. Again." His finger was pointed in the direction of the Impala. She disobiently continued to limp on over. "Are you mental, Ab? Get the fuck back to the car!"

She didn't stop.

Angrily, Dean stomped to her side, grabbing her by her uninjured arm and was in the process of leading her back.

"Dean, stop," she said, her bum foot practically dragged on the gravel. "We need to talk."

"Oh, _now_ she wants to talk," Dean stopped pulling her, grounding himself in her path. "Fine. What do you want to talk about, _princess_."

It was at that moment that her arm started to throb violently.

"I think I need to sit down," she weaved, before Dean's steady arms righted her.

"No shit," he grunted as he lifted her form and carried back to the Impala.

He sat her down gently in the passenger seat, tilting it all the way back so she could lay down. There was a slam of her door, before she heard the slamming of another. Dean sat in his seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. The white in his knuckles demonstrated just how pissed he really was.

With a heavy sigh, Dean adjusted his own seat back all of the way, laying down next to his wife.

"Just like old times," she sadly smiled.

"Yep," he sighed. "We're investigating something shitty and you're hurt. Sounds vaguely familiar."

"What are we going to do about Becky, Dean? It was a vampire. I--I think you could be right about the connection."

"How so," his brow furrowed.

"The bite mark. It was atypical of vampire. It was jagged and that was….intentional. I'd refer to it as a savage mark."

Dean looked at her with confusion.

"The last thing vampires want is to be discovered. We are discreet, even with the bite wounds. With two light pinpricks, they'll heal by morning. Those tears….that's new to me. They were intentionally malicious to her. Which isn't good. Ouch." She rubbed her broken rib.

"And what about you," Dean asked, his green eyes swimming in hers. "How the hell do we end up going to the hospital to check Becky out and end up getting YOU in the hospital?"

* * *


	24. Walk On

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

_**Author Note:** I'm so sorry for the long delay! Please forgive me! Also, I'm not a car buff. If I added some features that a '67 Impala does not have, then I apologize. :-)  
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* * *

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She stared thoughtfully up at the upholstered ceiling of the Impala, knowing full well that Dean was impatiently tapping his fingers on the seat, waiting for an answer. He was royally pissed off but underneath he was mostly worried about her as usual.

Abby let her mind wander back to the night's events, both ironically starting _and_ ending in the hospital.

"Mom! Dad," April immediately grabbed their attention as they rushed out of the Impala. She darted from under the pavilion covering the front door of the infirmary, managing to meet them halfway across the parking lot.

"Baby, thank god you're alright. But, what are you doing out here? Is Becky--,"Abby gasped, pulling her daughter into her arms, kissing the side of her head.

"Hi Mom and, to fill you in, no. She's not...you know, but she's hurt. She's in pretty bad shape guys, and I have a theory on whodunnit. I'd put my money on," she paused, pulling back to survey their surroundings before whispering the word Abby already knew was coming; vampire.

April suspiciously inspected both sides of the lot before urgently beckoned her parents to follow her. They exchanged glances and agreed, rounding a corner behind the building, out of the view of prying eyes. She brought her parent's heads close to her own and whispered the details of what she had discovered in the field earlier that evening. From the scenes in April's head, it wasn't looking too good for Becky. The teen had an extremely white pallor in her mind, a sure sign that she'd lost a devastating of blood. However, the most shocking of all was the glare on her son's face in April's mind, the scornful resentment that he reflected on his only sister. Abby had the sudden urge to get to her son and fast.

"Dylan _finally_ showed up here a little while ago," April scoffed, her tone filled with venom. "Which is a plus. You know, you're girlfriend you supposedly 'love' is in the hospital and he's out there playing the martyr. I was about ready to leave and drag his ass back here myself. He's really acting like a douche--"

"Hey, April, knock it off," Dean scolded, pointing at her while he spoke to drive the point home. "Now's not the time for that kinda crap. This has gotta be shitty for him to deal with right now, ok?"

April's shoulders sagged and she nodded, conceding to her father's request to zip it. Although, in her mind, April was still fuming at her twin. Abby could see both sides of the dilemma. Of course April was upset with the treatment she received as an extension of her as 'the enemy." That was something Abby could certainly relate to; she'd had the same feeling herself as she investigated brutal deaths done by vampires. After all, it _was_ her species whether she liked it or not. In fact, she was even guilty of the same sins, those same cravings for humans long before. And yes,she had done the unthinkable and did indeed act upon them, hurting more people, both the innocent and the guilty, in her lifetime than she would have liked. Although one could detox from the potent human type of blood, that also meant one could most certainly relapse. It was more like an addiction than a source of life, and one that she vowed to maintain sobriety. No more humans would be left hurt and bleeding in her wake.

Then there was her son. When April had discovered him with a broken Becky laying tangled in his arms, he was only _feeling_ at that point, his rational thought process overcome by the sheer force of his emotions. Couple that with the fact that her son was a strong empath, and the emotions coming from Becky would be enough to topple his mind. The rage, hurt and anxiety he must have felt at that very moment, with the one he loved dying in his arms…she knew it all too well. She glanced up at Dean and gave him a sad smile. Oh yes, she knew exactly how that felt.

"Can we go in and see her," Abby asked her daughter, trying to jolt the painful images out of her mind.

"Don't know, Mom," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She informed them that Mr. and Mrs. Laughton had previously arrived and had already barricaded themselves in their daughter's room. "They only let Dylan in for a minute, then Mr. Laughton kicked him out. They had a verbal altercation and it wasn't too pretty."

"Where'd he go," Dean asked, an edge in his voice. Abby knew he just as nervous as she was about what their son would do while alone.

April gestured to the opposite side of the large, commercial-looking building, letting them know that Jesse was with him as a friend. "Dyl won't let me near him yet. He says that my emotions are too strong and he can't deal with me right now. But at least he did apologize for how he acted earlier."

Dean pulled her to his side and placed a kiss on her forehead before suggesting, more like demanding, that his daughter go home and rest. She conceded, giving her parents a kiss on the cheek before heading to Dylan's car.

"Wait," her dad yelled back. "Hold up a minute, April. I got a better idea. Why don't you stay put a minute and I'll have Sam come pick you up--"

"_Daddy_," April rolled her eyes at her father's overprotectiveness. "I'm perfectly capable of handing myself--"

"Humor me, kid. Just--just stay put for a few...and keep your eyes open. K?"

April shook her head and flashed them a small smile, nodding in accord.

"K. Got it, sir," she said with sarcasm, giving him a thumbs up. Dean smirked and rolled his eyes causing Abby to chuckle. She had to admit, no matter how bad the circumstances, there was no shortage of comic relief in her family.

"Come on," Dean grumbled, pulling Abby to his side, his arm warmly wrapped around her waist. His fingers nervously played with the belt loop on her jeans. It was never a good sign when Dean fidgeted. He wasn't the antsy type.

"You ok," she checked, placing her left hand on his chest.

He just softly nodded in response. She didn't have to peer into his thoughts to know what he was feeling. Becky, who Abby could already feel was on the brink of death, was the same age as his own children; same age as his own daughter. It was hitting a little too close to home.

The large, glass doors abruptly slid open, revealing Becky's parents leaving the ER room and wandering into the long expanse of corridor. The father was holding the sobbing mother, who was trembling in his arms. They were emanating such sorrow and fear that it made Abby's head spin.

The Laughtons took their time to straightened up, gathering strength before heading back into Becky's room.

"Should we follow them in there," Abby whispered.

"Let's get them some coffee, you know, so we have an excuse to visit and not just barge in," Dean suggested with a smirk, giving her a quick squeeze.

She patted his chest and watched as he turned around to get some much needed caffeine for the grieving parents of their son's girlfriend.

Abby wrapped her pale arms around middle, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable meeting with the Laughtons. She could _feel_ their presence down the hallway, their minds full of 'what ifs' pushing on her thoughts. The sorrow that was pressing on her psyche was beyond excruciating. In order to maintain her own sanity, she was going to have to block her thoughts. She _had _to...if she wanted to make any ground investigating, she was going to have to push her feelings back; _their _feelings back. If she let it get to her--

She jolted as she felt a warm hand upon her shoulder.

"Ready," Dean smirked warmly, although his eyes were sad. Apparently, he wasn't looking forward to it either.

"Yeah," she replied, clearing her throat to hide her nervousness.

The next hour was one of the worst hours of her extended life. The parents were both so full of hope and despair that no amount of mental barricade was going to stop their thoughts from entering. The pain was only comparable to what humans called a migraine headache; the throbbing in her skull, the sensitivity to light…the way everyone in the world sounded as if they were underwater. She did her best to try to console them, give them some comfort, all the while trying not to look in pain. Dean steadily remained by her side, running a soothing hand down her back, his fingers reverently tracing the contour of her spine. He knew something was up with her. However, he only thought she was feeling how he was; those poor people and their poor teen daughter. He was way off.

"Excuse me," she announced, finally thinking that she'd taken enough mental abuse for one evening.

"You want me to go with you," Dean asked, his eyes searching to see how badly she needed to escape.

"No, no, I just need to get some air. It's all a bit overwhelming," Abby smiled sadly at Becky's parents, who did their best to smile back.

It so happened that as she was starting for the door, the nurse entered, informing the occupants that she had to change the patient's bandages.

Mr. & Mrs. Laughton turned away, not wanting to see the actual damage done to their daughter's flesh. It was a little too dramatic for them. Not for Abby; she'd seen plenty of blood and death in her life. And this...this was her job. She had to investigate any injury in her territory that was caused by something unexplainable.

She watched the nurse peel away the sticky, soaked, once white bandage from the girl's neck. There was no response from the girl; the only sounds in the room being the constant, yet audibly slower beeping of her heart on the monitor. The nurse gasped at the wound on Becky's neck. Abby looked, her eyes focused on the bloody gash across the girl's throat, now sewn up with stitches. The wound, however, was still bleeding.

The blood was dripping down her pale skin as the nurse hurriedly applied a new gauze patch and bandage on the oozing gash.

"You ok," Dean whispered into her ear, loud enough so only she would hear. She knew it wasn't about her emotions, his concern was more strictly on a bodily fluid level.

"I'm alright," she whispered back. Abby stepped away from Dean and made sure to speak her next words so everyone could hear her. "I just need to go outside for a while."

The couple nodded, thanking her for both her comfort and the coffee.

_'I'll be right behind you,'_ Dean directed his thoughts to her. _'Gonna try and get some more info out of them while I'm here. Be careful.'_

She confirmed his message with a nod before leaving the room.

Feeling the weight of the mournful parent's thoughts lift off of her shoulders was a relief...if only briefly.

There was something in the air, something not quite right. She had the sense of being pried upon, of insecurity. Someone was watching.

* * *

"Thank you and your wife again for your kindness," Miranda Laughton sighed, trying to keep her voice light. "We truly appreciate it."

Why was she trying to put up a strong front? Wasn't like he wouldn't understand her situation. But, he was a hypocrite to think that he wouldn't probably do the same thing. It wasn't about you, it was about your baby; had to keep the faith for them...no matter how shitty the situation seemed. There was no way you could just give up on them. No frickin' way.

"We'll keep her in our thoughts," Dean said with a sad smile, nodding towards Becky. "She's a good kid."

"Yes, we're very lucky to have her," Kyle Laughton said, giving his wife a squeeze. "And please tell Dylan he can come visit her. We--we…I didn't mean to be rude earlier. Please apologize to him for us."

"Will do," he answered. "Speaking of which, I should go check on how my son is holding up. Take care. And, if you need anything, don't be afraid to call us. OK?"

The pair nodded before restarting their vigilance at their daughter's bedside.

Poor folks.

Poor girl.

Dean walked down the diamond floored hall to the front door of the ER, the entry opening automatically at his presence. Smiling, he remembered when he was a real little kid, he used to tell Sammy that those kind of doors opened by magic. Poor gullible squirt believed him and went through an entire abracadabra phase. Dean had to sit through several of Sam's lame card tricks waitin' in the hotel while their dad was out huntin'. Sam never did pick his card, but Dean would never let him know that. As far as Sam was concerned, he was an honest-to-god magician.

Speaking of magic boy...

"Hey bro, thanks for picking April up," he greeted.

"No problem. Does Dylan need a ride too," Sam asked, glancing around for his nephew.

"Don't know. I'm gonna go talk to him. You just go ahead and take April home. If Dylan needs

a ride, Ab and I will take him home, ok?"

"You sure? Ok. Take care, Dean," Sam said, really meaning _Be Careful, Dean_. The guy worried too much. He knew better than to question his precautionary measures. Dean was already well away of the situation and keepin' an eye on his surroundings...plus, he had his gun under the passenger seat of the Impala, locked and loaded, a machete in the trunk and some rock salt just in case. Never knew what you'd find out there.

He nodded over to Sam's car and saw a glimpse of April happily waving to him from inside the car, just like she used to do as a kid before she'd go away for visits to her uncle's house.

"See, I'm fine," she yelled at him mockingly through the open window. "See you at home, Daddy!"

Good, at least she was safe. He could breathe a short sigh of relief.

He quietly rounded the corner to find Dylan next to the building, pacing like a caged animal. Jesse was still there, standing as still as a statue, his eyes blank. They quickly shifted to Dean before his demeanor calmed and he nodded to him, taking a step back.

"Listen, man, I'm gonna get goin', Dyl," Jesse drawled.

"You're gonna keep hunting them, right," Dylan said. "We've gotta get whoever did this, Jesse."

"I'm going to do everything in my power. Don't worry about that," the vampire smiled. "Take care of yourself."

Dylan nodded and waited for the vampire to leave, before he started pacing again, dragging his fingers roughly through his hair.

He walked, his breathe becoming more ragged with every deliberate step. Back and forth, back and forth. Dean could see his son's eyes glazed over, glistening with sadness.

"Goddamn it," Dylan screamed, slamming his fist into the hard brick siding of the hospital. "Damn it! Damn it!"

Dylan continued to smash his knuckles into the wall, the sound of flesh against hard stone was sickening. That's when Dean remembered; his son wasn't full vampire.

"Hey, Son," Dean yelled, hurriedly moving towards him. "Stop!"

Dylan's eyes didn't waver from the wall, his fist still pushed firmly against it, the pale flesh turning into an obscene purple.

"Son," Dean approached slowly, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dylan's body shuddered and stumbled backwards, turning around so his back was against the bricks. He slumped down, his head in his hands.

Dean sighed and took a seat next to him.

"Give me your hand," he grumbled.

Dylan obliged.

From the looks of it, his hand was broken. Half-vamp healing or not, he was gonna need a brace. His son's knuckles oozed blood from where the skin had torn under the abuse.

"So, what did the wall ever do to you," Dean smirked, giving his son's hand back.

"Doesn't matter. It won," Dylan joked, taking a look at his hand. He made a fist and winced.

"Careful, it looks broken, dude," he assumed. "We'll get a doc to look at it."

His son tilted his head back, propping it up against the side of the building.. Dylan pushed the hair out of his eyes, the sweaty strands sticking to the sides of his face. That's the reason Dean never had long hair. Poor kid was cursed with the genetics of his locks.

"You mean one of _their_ doctors...right?"

"What?"

"I can't go in _there_," he nodded to the wall behind him. "That's for _normal _people."

"Dyl--"

"You know, I was mad at April for being one of them....but then I realized, oh wait, I'm one of them too..."

"Neither of you are one of them. You're --"

"No, Dad. We are. We're half Mom too. Regardless of how we were raised, that's part of who we are. Part of who they are...the _things_ that did that to Beck."

"Dylan, look at me," he ordered, making sure to give the boy the right message. The only one that mattered and the most important. He had to get that one to sink in. "Look at me. You are _nothin_g like them. No matter what your DNA says, you're _not_ one of them. Neither is your Mom, or your sister, or Lenore, or Gwen...you're all different. They all fight against what did that to your girl. That's what makes them different; what makes them better."

"Dad, that doesn't mean that we don't have that same..._instinct_. Deep down. Even though I'm not exactly like them, I could have that…capacity."

Dean was about to tell him that his son couldn't, explain that there was no way he would ever allow himself to go that far. His son was a good and decent kid. No, not kid; hard to believe but his son was a man now. Yep. Dylan was a good man who couldn't be brought down to that level of brutality. But, then again, he remembered his own time in Hell. The violent things he did to others, not out of joy, but out of necessity; he couldn't take the pain anymore. So he had cut, carve and tear into them, thinking nothing of it but his own hide was off of the rack. He had become one of them.

"I'm gonna make them pay, dad," Dylan said matter-of-factly, with a leveled certainty that chilled Dean down to the bone. "They're going to pay for what they did to her. However long it takes to kill them, I'm going to do it."

Great…another Winchester on a revenge goose-chase.

"Can I give you some advice, Son," Dean shifted on the pavement, sitting straighter against the moist brick wall. "Your granddad was all about that. The revenge part anyways."

Dylan repositioned himself, getting a better look at his father. Good, that meant he was listening.

"He--he spent most of his life…hell most of _my _life, tracking down…hunting the thing that killed Mom. Your Grandma. Every spare moment he had between hunts was focused on tracking that sonofabitch Yellow-Eyed Demon. That was it. I think back now and realize I didn't get too much father-son time back then. My 'bonding' time with my dad was spent charting out maps of electrical storms or reading newspapers to see if there were any good cases around. On occasion, I'd help him load up the guns and clean em'. Other than that, I took care of Sammy. Dad was gone, usually chasing ghosts…and by that I mean, things in the past that he couldn't change."

Dylan's eyes sunk down to his fist, now swollen and bloodied.

"You know, my Dad did track him down."

"Seriously? Did he get him," Dylan asked, a slight glimmer of hope that there was a happy ending to the story. Ha. In their lives? Not likely.

"You see…the three of us tracked him as a family. It was pretty much the most family bonding I'd had in a long time. Yeah, we tracked him but he was one tricky bastard. It was a bad fight. Dad was possessed and although we got out of there, I got hurt bad. Started to drive away and the car got slammed by a truck. Figured a demon was drivin' it. Bastard almost totaled my car," Dean smirked.

Dylan didn't laugh.

"I was hurt and I don't' remember too much but Sam said I was in the hospital for a while and that my heart had stopped once. The docs didn't have a lot of hope; said I'd probably not wake up. Sammy said he talked to me through a Ouija board," Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. Dylan smiled. "I know, right? But, he said that I said from…wherever I was that a Reaper was after me. I was close to death…really close."

"But," Dylan contemplated. "If you were that close to being smoked, how are you--"

"Dad," he cut in. "Apparently, while I was in lala land, Yellow-Eyes made a deal with my dad. Guess my father couldn't see me like that. I didn't understand then…but I totally get it now that I've got my own kids," he chuckled at the realization, surprised that his revelations was turning into more of a therapy session. "Dad traded his own life for mine. He had one moment to say goodbye and warn me about Sammy's future and then--he was gone."

"And Yellow-Eyes?"

"Dad never got him…but I did. I shot that sonofabitch right between the eyes."

Dylan nodded, his eyes looking past his fist now, searching.

"All I'm trying to say, Son, is that grief can make us do…well, for lack of a better word, stupid ass things. I got a whole bunch of them," he said, going through an extensive list. He felt like he was delving into private mental property, but he let Dylan in on Abby's past and her quest to avenge her parent's murder. Of course, that ended with a dead end. Then there was her getting her hands,--literally--on Caleb after her brother's killing. That didn't help her much either. Then, he served up the entrée and told Dylan all about his own deal with Hell to save Sammy's life, and only to have it turn Sammy into someone he wasn't. Sam turned into one of them, all for the sake of revenge.

"Your Mom started to calm down a little bit before I came back," Dean said, fiddling with a piece of grass he found on the ground. "She had decided revenge wasn't gonna bring me back. Granted, she was still looking at any other possibilities, but she decided she had to be a mom for you guys. That was the only part of me left. But Sam…he was so focused on hunting and killing Lilith; it was his only reason to exist. Sure, he cared about you guys and even Abby, Ruby too…but…it was something that he could focus all his energy on so he didn't have to grieve. It's a dangerous path, Dylan," he reminded. "Let me tell ya, through all of our experiences of it, not one of us is happy because of it."

Dean turned to look at his son, and gave him a quick pat on the back.

"I just love ya, kid," Dean said, ironically thinking that he wished his dad had let him know that more often. "God help you, but you're my boy. I know you'll do what you want, but…just keep those things in mind, alright? I just want you to be safe and happy."

He used his hands to help push himself off of the pavement, eventually ending up in a standing position. In good shape or not, it was a lot harder than it used to be.

"I'm gonna go check on your mom. We're probably gonna hit the road soon. No visitors allowed after ten. You gonna go see her again," Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dad. Just…just for a little while."

"Ok, kid. We'll wait for you and give you a ride home."

"Dad, you don't have to. I have my car. I'll be fine."

_Sure _he would be.

"Ok. Call when you're leaving," he relented. "Be careful."

"I will, Dad. And…thanks for letting' me in on that stuff. It helps…sorta," Dylan shrugged.

"No problem."

Dean began to walk away, hoping the words had seeped into his son's skull. He wished they would. Dylan wasn't as thick-headed and stubborn as April so there was a decent chance. He just couldn't see another Winchester get eatin' alive by guilt and revenge plots. The three of them; him, Abby and Sammy had vowed never again. No more sacrificing ourselves to save the others. They would fight and try, but they'd let the cards fall where they may. It was fate or some shit. All he knew was none of them was ever gonna go down without a fight.

* * *

She could smell them. They were close. They were…_circling? Wait, was there even more than one? _

Without warning, Abby was slammed forcefully onto the pavement. Her vision swirled around her as she tried desperately to get some bearing on her situation. She could sense her attacker and sprang for an tackle, being caught mid air by her foot. Her body twisted around in a feeble attempt to remain upright and in control at all times. She did manage to place a foot onto the ground, only to have it roll accurately out of sync with her body. The muscle under the flesh pulled at an odd angle, the pain circulating through her ankle and leg.

With a snarl, they came at her again. She blocked one, flipping them over her body onto the hard concrete below. Her focus on that one, however, served against her in terms of her other assailant.

Cold hands gripped her throat, the harsh fingers digging into her flesh. She was surprised at how easily her attacker picked her up with just one hand.

His eyes burned into hers, the steely gray of his own providing no warmth of intent. They were cold and deadly determined.

"I have a message, my lady," he greeted, smirking as he greeted her, as if it were the most amusing joke he'd heard in years. "Your boy's consort was just a warning shot. Next time it will be aimed relatively closer."

Abby growled at him, her fist making contact with his head. He released his fangs, burying them deep into her arm. She howled out in pain, feeling his teeth ripping and tearing into her flesh…just as they must have into Becky's throat.

Her freehand found his head, giving it a hard tug back as her feet found the wall. She pushed, tossing herself into him. Ripping her arm from his mouth with one full tug, her hands found his throat, gripping his the same way as he had to her previously.

"Who is doing this," she demanded, squeezing harder.

His eyes met her own again and he began to laugh.

"Bravo. Valiant effort, my lady," he laughed. "But…did it ever occur to you that this is all really a game of cat and mouse…and the mouse will always, eventually get caught?"

The thought didn't register until he sprung up instantaneously, gripping her body at the same time, and slamming her hard against the wall again. This time, her body was pushed so hard that concrete began to crumble around her form. He was strong, and he knew it. That vampire was stronger than most she knew, human blood drinker or otherwise.

"Listen," he pushed down harder. "I didn't want to scuffle and damage that pretty little head of yours…" He slammed her skull into the wall harder. "In fact, I wasn't supposed to damage you at all. Oh well. But…I came her to remind you that you need to RSVP…soon."

"Abby?"

_'Dean.'_

"Stay back," she tried to yell, her throat dripping with her own blood.

_Shit_. Those were the wrong words to say. Why couldn't she had said 'I'm out here, I'll be in in a second' or 'I'll be right there.' No. She was too crazed to use sensible words. Instead, she had said those words that Dean knew meant trouble…and he was headed straight for it.

"Ah, here comes your knight in shining armor," he mused, tightening his grip on her throat. "Remember the deal, Abigail, and heed my words. We don't make promises that we don't keep. Until then."

Just as Dean rounded the corner to find her, her attacker slipped away in a blur, leaving her falling hard onto the harsh pavement.

"Abby? Abby," his voice became more urgent. "Shit, are you…what--what the fuck just happened?!"

"You were right," she sighed, wiping the blood off of her face, the back of her head throbbing in pain. "You were right about Becky…she was just a warning shot."

Abby slumped against the wall as Dean tried to make sense of her words.

"They were here," he finally realized, his words crisp with anger.

All she could do was nod.

"Damn it," he said, standing up to look around. "Which way?"

She couldn't respond to that. The world was seeming a bit too hazy for her to grasp anything with any amount of certainty.

"Shit, we need to get you help first," Dean said, putting her in his arms. "Where do we go?"

"I already paged Lenore," she smiled, wincing in the process. She pulled out her cell and showed him her text of 911 to her boss. "Take me to the car. She has a list of vampire physician in every hospital in Chicago."

That idea had been simple and had proved very effective in keeping their nest healthy and in action. After any bad scuffle, a vampire in Lenore's group always had a safe place to go and heal…and now they didn't have to go in the middle of nowhere to get it treatment. Every hospital in the damn city had a vampire physician, with Dr. Musgrove heading the initiative with is own clinic downtown, treating both vampires and humans.

Her phone rang in her hand.

"Give me that," Dean setting her down on the grass while he took the car. "Yeah, she's hurt. We're at South Suburban…there is? How do we…? Oh, great, yeah I see him comin', thanks. Bye." He closed the phone and waved to someone off in the distance.

"I heard one of our top officers was hurt," the man said.

"She was attacked," Dean grunted, lifting her up in his arms. "Where do I take her?"

"For formalities sake, take her to that wheelchair. I'll take care of the rest."

All she could remember was the shifting of her body from Dean's arms to the chair, and then she passed out.

* * *

She didn't have to be in the hospital long. Guess that was a good thing, although the longer she was cooped up in there, the less trouble she could get into. Now that he actually had the actual full story of how the attack actually happened, he had the need to go out and rip the fucker's balls off. They _jumped _her. Two against one. What a bunch of fucking cowards.

"Can we go home now," she asked, turning her head to see his from the passenger seat. "Although this is comfy, I'd rather be in my own bed."

"You feelin' any better, gimpy," he joked.

"A little," she shrugged. "I just really want to sleep."

"Dylan, called," Dean checked the number flashing on his cellphone's missed calls. "He texted too. He said he's on his way home. It was only a few minutes ago. We should be able to meet him."

"Ok," she yawned. "That's good. Is April--"

"Sam is having her and Jamie stay at his place for extra protection. We'll keep an eye on Dylan tonight. K?"

"Uh…huh," she yawned again.

Poor thing was exhausted. Who wouldn't be after all the injuries she got from just one dude. He tore up her arm pretty bad. She need almost ten temporary stitches just to get it to stop oozing. At least nothing was broken. But, the vampire that roughed her up was right; he was stronger and was just playing with her. Just a game of cat and mouse. But this was one that the mouse was gonna win. Time to put out the poisoned catnip.

* * *

"Dylan, it's late. Shouldn't you be home not worrying your parents?"

"Jesse, I need your help."

"Can't it wait--"

"No it can't," he said, trying to hold back his emotions. "…Becky isn't getting better."

"I'm sorry…but what does that have to do with--"

"I need to know how to make someone a vampire."


	25. Headed For A Fall

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

"You must be completely out of your pitiful human skull. Go home and get some sleep, kid. I'll call you in the mornin'," Jesse chuckled, closing the door to the hotel room.

Dylan wasn't going to be dismissed or ignored that easily. He placed his foot in the way of the threshold, stopping the door in it's tracks.

"_Dylan_," Jesse said sternly with no more amusement in his voice. "Go home."

"_No_."

The vampire absently ran his hand through his blonde hair, his eyes shifting to a stormy blue. He clearly wasn't happy with his late, unexpected guest.

"What do you want me to say, Dylan," Jesse laughed, tossing his hands up. "You come here after enduring a horrible day and want me to tell you about _that_? What do you except me to do?"

He took a step towards the vampire, his face only a few inches from his own.

"Tell me how."

"I'm sure _Wes_ already told you how," Jesse drawled, annoyance pressing intentionally down on him. "Go talk to _him_."

"He won't come back and he won't answer my calls," Dylan admitted, having already gone the route that Jesse was recommending. Whether it truly was for their protection or for some other reason, Wesley wanted nothing to do with him or his family anymore.

"Huh...well good for him. Perhaps he is actually learnin'," Jesse said. "Dylan--quit while you're ahead. And believe me, you're ahead because you haven't done anythin' stupid yet besides askin' for my help. You're out of your league, kid."

"I'm _not_ leaving, Jesse."

"Look, you know _how_ to do it. Wes told you...but are you willin' to risk what happened to Jenny," he inquired. Hurt and sadness swelled off of the vampire from the loss of his adopted sister. Well, loss was not necessarily the correct term; _turned _would be the proper terminology. However, it was clear that he never wanted his sister to become one of his kind. She had the opportunity to be human and not have to be cursed by taking a life to live. That's what he was feeling about the situation.

But didn't he know how lucky he was? His sister was alive, or undead as it were. Either way, she _existed_.

"Will you do it for me," Dylan finally asked. Jesse's demeanor changed, his body stiffening up to statue straight.

"No, I will most definitely not do that," Jesse spat in disgust.

"Why the hell not?"

"For one, I wouldn't put someone else in that position for all the tea in China. Dylan, I respect you. You're a good man, but you're grieving...you're not in your right mind."

Why were people thinking that? He was thinking clear enough. He saw a way to save Becky; a guaranteed way. All the doctors could offer was a remote chance that she would wake up. It was a coin flip on her life. That wasn't good enough.

"Second, it's against the law."

"Law," Dylan tilted his head.

Jesse went on to explain that Lenore's nest had control of Chicago and the neighboring parts of Illinois and govern the local area. They had rules regarding feeding on humans and killing people. One of those rules was in regards to turning humans.

"You'd have to ask the nest's permission," Jesse said, leaning against the door jam.

"Who do I need to ask," Dylan said, not wavering in his conviction.

"Any of the hire ups in the group. Lenore, dear Gwen...and of course, your mother," the vampire smirked.

"Of course," Dylan sighed, causing Jesse to chuckle.

"If I were you, I wouldn't ask. I wouldn't even think about what you are plannin'. But, if you are stubborn enough to ask, I'd ask your mother directly. Wouldn't look good for your case if you tried to circumvent her authority. Good luck with that," he smiled.

The vampire was feeling pretty confident that Dylan didn't have the balls to go suggest his plans to his mother. He figured Dylan didn't have the guts to do it. He was wrong.

Without another word, Dylan spun around and headed home.

* * *

"You need anything, babe," Dean said, patting her gently on the thigh.

"Just you," she yawned.

Dean smiled down at her on the couch, covering her with a blanket. He carefully lifted up her legs and took a seat on the sofa, replacing her legs on his lap, being extra cautious when he put down her twisted ankle.

"Are you feelin' any better," he asked, taking her healthy foot into his hands and rubbing it.

"I'd be feeling better if my son was home," she admitted, shifting on the couch to find a more comfortable position.

Dean suggested she get to bed; he'd stay up and make sure Dylan got home and stayed there. She wouldn't hear of it.

"No," she yawned. "I want to stay up and talk to him. I need to make sure he's alright."

Whatever would make her rest easier. He'd let her stay on the couch with him...at least until she fell asleep. With the combo of her exhaustion and medications, she wouldn't know the difference when he moved her to their bed.

"He's here," she whispered, her eyes closed.

He hated when she did that. Stupid, supersonic vampire senses.

The car pulled up into the driveway and the door slammed, followed by footsteps leading to the front door.

"Hey son," Dean greeted as the front door open.

There was a wiping of feet and then Dyl peeked his head from around the wall.

"Hey," he sighed. "Mom still up?"

"Yes," she yawned.

"In case you didn't hear, that'd be a yes," Dean smiled. "What's up?"

"I--I need to talk to Mom," he practically whispers. "Alone."

"Oh, no," Abby said, lifting herself up to a sitting position. Dean wished she would have asked for help as she winced from the pain in her arm. "No way, Dylan. If you have something to say, your father is going to stay right here."

"Mom...it's--I don't want to talk about it in front of--"

"It's either in front of both of us or you can keep it to yourself," she ordered. "So, make your choice."

Dylan took a seat on the chair across from the sofa, bringing it forward. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. Dean was at a loss. He didn't know what else to do to comfort his son. It seemed like telling him 'it'll all be alright' was just a lie. How the hell did he know?

None of them spoke for a while. Dylan sat as still as a sculpture, his head never raising from the cocoon of his hands.

Finally, he sighed, lifting himself up enough for his eyes to meet his parent's. His gaze shifted between the pair of them, back and forth, searching for somethin'.

"Mom," he finally said, his eyes settling on her.

He'd never seen his son so focused, his face so stony and determined. And he appeared older somehow, the situation wearing on him body, mind and soul.

"Mom...I need you to do me a favor."

Abby stared at him, raising her eyebrow before her eyes slit and she growled. Her whole body trembled, her feet quivering over his own body...and he had no idea why.

"_NO_."

"Did I miss somethin'," Dean asked, looking from his son to his wife and back again.

"I don't even want to say what your son is thinking," she spat, her voice not steady.

Dylan looked down again, his eyes studying the hardwood floor of their living room.

"Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on," Dean asked, his voice raised in annoyance.

"I can't even speak it," Abby said, looking at her son before her vision snapped away from him in disgust. She rested her chin on her fist, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Fine, _I'll_ say it," Dylan said with scorn, raising his head to look at his father. "I want Mom to turn Becky."

Abby huffed crossing her arms over her chest. Man, she was pissed. Super pissed. Her face was positively seething.

"Are you mental," Dean said to Dylan, gently lifting up Abby's legs so he could stand and pace. "Seriously, Dylan? After what you...and then what your mom has been through tonight...you want to pull this shit?!"

"_Mom_...what happened to Mom," Dylan asked.

Dean lifted the blanket up and pointed to Abby's wrapped ankle and arm, telling him about the vampires jumping her outside of the hospital.

"Why didn't you tell me," he screamed at Dean, suddenly rising out of his chair to face his father, his face inches from his own. "It could have been the vamp that got Beck!! We could have gotten him! You let him get away?!"

"You better step down, kid," Dean grumbled. "Believe me, if I coulda gotten him, I would have. Don't you think I would have? But how the Hell do we even know it's the same vamp that got Becky?"

"Who else would have been there, _Dad_? Come on, you can't be that _dense_?!"

Dean stood toe-to-toe with his son, neither of them backing down.

"Dylan...**sit**...**down**," Dean said between gritted teeth.

Dylan didn't dare move, not even a twitch.

"Don't make me put you down," Dean said. Dylan sighed and sank down into his chair. "So, do you wanna calm down now?"

"We could have stopped him," Dylan repeated over and over, putting his head back in his hands, tugging on his hair. "We could have stopped him."

"No, we couldn't," Dean said. "Do you see what he did to your mom? He was just playing with her; toying with her....with another vampire. What the fuck do you think woulda happened to us, Dyl? Look, I know you're upset but think for a minute, alright!! And then after all of this shit today, you come home and ask your mom to go and do that?! Christ, you are really outta of your fucking mind, son!!"

Dean couldn't stop pacing. He was livid. He thought if anything happened, his face would explode. He really needed a drink...

"_No_, you _don't_."

His gaze shifted to the voice who had so sternly invaded his thoughts. Abby was stoic and completely still.

"You don't _need_ that, Dean. Let's not go back there," she said, no emotion in her voice. She seemed to be doing a much better job of holding it together...or she just hadn't cracked yet. From the tremor under the blanket, he knew better; she was about two seconds away from completely wigging out.

* * *

_'I can't believe my stupid son,'_ she repeated in her head. She wondered how in the hell he thought what he was asking for was ok. Abby didn't dare look into his mind again, for fear of what else she'd find out. She was shanking at the very thought of it. _How could he be so stupid?_

Her eyes met Dean's, who was still in the middle of a rant, standing in front of Dylan. Her husband was fuming. She was incensed. And, Dylan, he was just devastated.

"Do you know what you're askin' her to do? Do you really," Dean continued on.

"He does...he's just in to deep too realize how selfish it is," she sighed.

"Pardon," Dylan said, his eyes glassy. "How could you even think saving someone is _selfish_?"

"What's the real reason you don't want her to die, besides love? Revenge? Regret? What else, Dyl," she wondered.

"I _love_ her," he sobbed.

"So?"

"_So_," he hissed back. "Isn't that _enough_, Mom?"

"Your Ma has a point."

She glanced up at Dean, who was rubbing his face with his hands.

"Well you do," he said to her.

Dylan looked up at him, trying to figure out his father's angle.

"What I wonder is...is it fair to Becky," Dean pondered, offering the question to his son.

"Why wouldn't it be fair," Dylan yelled, throwing up his hands. "Apparently, because she knew me and our family, she's in that hospital dying! So, why wouldn't it be fair to save her when we were the ones who got her hurt?!"

"Didn't you learn anythin' from what I told you earlier, son? You can't let this stuff eat at you," Dean yelled.

"She's human, Dylan," Abby muttered.

"Wh--what?"

"She's _human_...she's supposed to die."

"What...did...**you**...**say**," Dylan snarled at his mother, his stare deep.

"She's **human**...she's suppose to **die**, Dylan."

Dylan took a step towards her, his fists clenched before Dean stepped in between him and his mother.

"Human's grow old and they will die. That is an absolute certainty, my son. Terrible to some, envious to others, but their species will pass on."

"While we stay here and watch everyone else fall around us? While they rot in the ground," Dylan sobbed. "Is that fair?!"

"No," she sighed, playing with the blanket on her legs. "_No_, it's not _fair_. Believe me, it's _hard_ to deal with...perhaps that is why most of our species don't associate a lot of humans, in regards to relationships I mean. Only us masochists," she joked, glancing up at Dean. Her thoughts shifted to those she had earlier, those of Dean dying--dead on the floor of the house in New Harmony. She could feel the tears already coming. "I've had to watch your father die before."

"Ab--," Dean said, his brow tight as he approached her in an attempt to console.

"Don't," she said, pushing him back. "He needs to know. He needs to know…everything."

She stood up wobbly, having Dean steady her by the right arm, his hand helping posture her back. He looked at her pleadingly, begging her not to relive that night. But, she had to...for their son.

"Dylan--I knew when I met your father that one day we would have to part. At first, it didn't matter. I saw him just as he was; a human hunter. He was in a dangerous occupation and I knew that meant he'd probably meet his demise before others. But, as I grew closer to him, that thought nagged at me. It was like a tease. Here you are, you're one and only...fast forward years later and you'd be alone again. But, Dean had a way of making me forget about that until it was lost in the back of my mind. And then, I got pregnant with you and your sister. I was beyond nervous to tell your father," she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I was delusional enough to think we could have a family; raise you two, forget about hunting. Be…normal. That same day, I found out your father had sold his soul to save Sammy's life."

Dylan took in a ragged breathe, his shoulders sagging lower. Abby felt Dean take a step towards her, his chest pressed into her back. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him.

"I tried everything, Dylan. I--I went through tablets of ancient magic spells…hell I even went and called upon the Crossroads Demon myself, putting myself up in exchange for Dean. They turned me down, finding more pleasure in me squirming at their feet than giving in. They wanted Dean…bad. One night, I was laying next to your Dad. Dean was sleeping so peacefully and he was so still that he almost appeared dead…and I lost it."

"Lost it….how," Dylan asked, raising his eyes.

"I was about two seconds from turning your father into a vampire against his will."

Dean immediately pulled back.

"It was wrong," she cried to her son. "It was _so _wrong. I only stopped for two reasons. First, your father would have resented me forever, which I would have been ok with as long as he was alive to see you and your sister grow up. Second, it wouldn't have mattered; I would have had to kill him to change him. The hounds would have arrived before the change was complete. There was no hope. So, I stopped."

She moved closer to her son, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I tried so, so hard to find a way to save him, Dylan. I tried with all of my might to find a way…and I failed."

"Ab, you didn't," Dean tried to console, his own voice cracking.

"I did," she said to Dean but didn't take her eyes off her son.

"Mom…it's just--this really _hurts_."

"I know, sweetie" she said, trying her best to sooth her son's emotions.. "I know what you're going through."

"Do you really," he retaliated. "Do you really know what it's like to watch the love of your life _waste away _in front of you?"

She only had one option left at her disposal.

"Dylan, use your powers on me," she requested.

"What?"

"Open up your shield to me…completely. Use you powers of empathy and telepathy on me. I--I want to show you something."

"Abby, I hope you're not doing what I think you are," Dean scolded. "If you are, stop it. Right the fuck now."

"Dean," she turned to him, "they're very fresh in my mind right now. The hypnosis brought a lot of things--good and bad--right to the surface. If he really wants to know that I understand, we have to do this…_I _have to do this."

Dean closed his eyes, his breathing deep and uneven.

"Fine," he groaned. "But I'm _not _going to sit here while you do it."

He turned on his heel and went out the back door, slamming it shut behind him. Dean just needed a little time to cool off. Abby turned back to her son and sighed heavily.

"Alright, Dyl, let's get this over with."

* * *

_**  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. **_

Abby's 'plan' was completely, goddamned ridiculous. It wasn't gonna help anyone with what she was doing.

That had been his thoughts for a whole hour, just mulling and stewin' in his anger.

Sighing, he stomped up the back steps, making sure that everyone was aware of his presence. Pssh. Not like Abby couldn't have already heard him a mile away. He just…he didn't want to feel like he was intruding.

She was sharing a memory, truly sharing something so awful and hurtful with her son that he had never even experienced from her point of view. Frankly, he hoped he never had to. It was bad enough for him, he didn't want to really know what it was like for her and Sam. There was no way he wouldn't feel guilty from seein' how they were when he was in The Pit; how far they had both sank because of him.

"…it's against the law for anyone without permission, Dylan," Abby sighed from the living room.

Her voice sounded sad and tired. The projecting of her thoughts must of taken a lot outta her.

"I'm here asking permission. _Please, Mom_. I know that you know what I'm going through."

"And you know my opinion. What would happen if we took in every request to save a human life, son? Chaos. Our existence would be too well known. We cannot interfere with every human death. On top of that, made vampires are…not as controlled as Lamia. Many are angered by the change. They regret it or are defiant of their creator. They simply don't care about anything. They cause more issues than they are worth. Most of the vampires in our custody right now were made."

"Mom, no one said you need to save everyone of them. I'm asking for one. Just _one_. Save her," he begged, his eyes watering.

Dean stopped where he was not wanting to interfere. Whatever was going on was strictly between mother and son.

Abby sank farther back into her chair, her fingers tapping on the arms.

"No. I can't do that, Son. I'm very sorry," she apologized, leaning forward in the recliner, her hands on her knees. "But I will tell you one thing. This is more of a warning. Becky cannot be changed. That is my word. NO one has permission. If any vampire…and I mean ANY try to change her…there will be consequences from the Nest. I can assure you, they will not be pleasant."

Dylan stood, his face about to burst into tears at any minute. The last time Dean had seen his son like that was when he was a little squirt, barely about to get around on his own.

"Dylan," he yelled after his son as he darted out the front door.

His wife sank back in her farther, putting her head in her hands.

"Damn it, Abby! What did you do," Dean screamed, pointing towards the front door.

"I did what I had to do!! I did my job," she growled, standing in front of him in an instant. "I'M in charge of this decision, DEAN! ME! Son or not, it cannot happen! I can't make this decision just because he is my blood!"

"Did you have to be so harsh when his emotions are so raw," Dean accused.

"Speaking of raw emotions," she chuckled, her eyes watering up. "Sorry. It wasn't pretty for either of us."

"Why did you do this, Ab? Wasn't warning him enough?"

"No, Dean. He had to know that I had been there; I've gone through it before. Completely. He had to know before he understood _why _I turned him down."

"Do we need to go after him," Dean asked, looking towards the still open door.

"I don't know," her voice trembled. "Perhaps giving him some time to let my words sink in would be appropriate."

"I hope your right, babe," Dean whispered as he pulled his wife into his arms.

She shivered against him, wrapping her arms around his body, burying her head into his chest.

* * *

Dylan ran through the woods, his tears distorting his vision. He could hardly see anything in the darkness. Stupid human eyes.

Soon that would all change.

His was practically out of breathe when he spotted a rabbit cross his path.

Yep, that would do.

He had waited three more days after speaking with his mother that night at home. Becky wasn't getting better. In fact, she was getting worse.

"Use your telepathy to talk to her," his mother had suggested, letting him in on how she had comforted his father during his coma.

So he had talked to her in her sleep, letting her know he was there for her.

"I love you, Dylan," she had whispered to him in her dreams, his figment arms wrapped around her.

"Becky, if there was a way to save you…would you let me," he dared to ask.

"To be with you. Yes."

"Anyway? What are you willing to risk," he tensed.

"Everything. I love you. I want to be with you--forever."

That's all the permission he needed.

He stopped his pace and aimed at the rabbit with his crossbow.

"Sorry little bunny," he said sadly as he took aim, killing it almost instantly.

Thank god for the massive amount of hunting weapons in his car. Didn't come in handy just for ghosts; all he had to do after speaking with Becky was just head out to his car, grab his weapon, and run in the woods near the hospital.

He fell to his knees, waiting for himself to wake up. Was he really going to do it?

_'Think of Becky. Think of Becky.'_

And he did.

He picked up the limp form, and brought the bleeding wound to his lips, all the while thinking of his sister's own words the night she had revealed her condition to him: _'They never explained to that all it took was one sip of blood. I didn't know what I was drinking at first, Dylan. But once I took a sip it was like…something changed in me. I could feel this part of me grow stronger, more powerful. But, I swear to you, I never thought I'd have to live like this forever, to survive off of blood, I would have never taken that one sip. That's all it took to change me forever.'_


	26. Last Caress

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

It all happened so quickly; too fast.

Wasn't it only moments before that he was sneaking into her hospital room window after hours?

After taking that first sip of blood, he found it much easier to catch more prey, gluttonously filling himself as much as possible before he'd even consider contact with her. It was just common sense; the more satisfied he was, the less he'd take from Becky. Seemed like a reasonably thought-out plan.

Running through the woods that night was beyond exhilarating. He reached a speed that he could have never succeeded in reaching as a full human. The trees blurred into one solid color as he sped over the damp ground, never unsure in his footing or pace.

Before he knew it, the large, looming shape of the hospital was just ahead of him. He was surprised at how precise he could see in the darkness; it was not really that different as he was used to seeing in the day. How incredible.

As he reached the building, realizing it was after hours, he had to find a way to get to the third floor without being noticed. Hopefully that could be accomplished without killing himself.

Concrete windowsills jutted out of the building under each room, creating some sort of intricate ladder system. Good, he could use that.

Once again, he discovered climbing and jumps was a lot easier in his new state. Why didn't he do the change before? _'All benefits with none of those pesky side effects,'_ he joked.

Three, four, five. Yep, five rooms down the hall from the front of the building. He had her room.

Giving the window a good yank up, he broke the lock and silently slid it open before slipping into her room. He quietly shut the window, not wanting her to catch a chill in her already compromised state.

Becky was sounded asleep, the only sounds in the room were her soft, raspy breathing and beeping from various monitors, all of which seemed very slow.

Dylan shifted closer to her to get a better look at his angel.

Her skin was exceptionally pale, almost as white as a sheet. Her lips were starting to go blue. She wasn't looking good at all and it was obvious that her time was indeed running out.

"It's ok, baby, I'm here," he whispered, sinking down to squat beside her bed. Dylan's hands stroked her hand, moving up her arm, past her neck, caressing her cheek before wiping wispy tendrils of her beautiful chocolate hair off of her face. Her skin was cold...so cold.

"I'll help you, hun," he kissed her chilled cheek. She didn't move or respond.

Wiping the tears away, his other senses latched onto something else. It was something he never realized before; the sticky, sweet smell of...blood.

Dylan walked around her bed to the other side and saw her neck. The bandages were pink, the fluid underneath starting to seep through. It was so potent that he could almost taste it. He felt his canines start to extend on their own.

_'Calm. Calm. Calm,' _he repeated like a mantra, bending down towards the bandages.

He slowly began to unwrap them from her skin, slowly revealing the damage done underneath.

He really was going to kill the bitch who did that to her. No matter what, they were going to down for touching her. No one was going to hurt her again; not after that night.

The open skin mocked him, the torn flesh glistening with fresh crimson blood.

Dylan took in a deep strangled breathe, bringing his face down to hers. His lips pressed against her own and then over her cheek, leaving small kisses on their path.

"I love you, Rebecca," he whispered, softly kissing her earlobe.

She slightly smiled and his heart leapt.

"I'm going to make you better, my love. I promise. I'll take care of you."

He readied himself as his lips neared her throat.

_'Calm. Calm. Calm. Stay calm.'_

At the first moment his lips grazed the wound, he felt euphoric for the second time in his life, the first being his first time with Becky. As soon as that blood hit his tongue he was in heaven...and he would be as soon as she was safe in his arms.

Soon she would be. He was going to save her by taking her life and giving her his blood to make her better. It would all be ok.

He drank deeply from her, keeping track of how much he was taking. However, he never imagined that it would taste and feel so good.

His head was swimming, he was lighter than air with the warm liquid soothing his parched throat.

_'So good. Too good. She tastes so good,'_ he hummed to himself as he lapped up the heady red dripping from her neck.

"You taste so good," he whispered against her throat, as his hand slid under her neck, pressing her skin tighter against his mouth.

_'Thank you for loving me this much,' _he thought as he sipped her life. _'Thank you for wanting to be with me forever. I love you.'_

She was the one thing in his life that made sense, that one thing that made him want to live forever.

_'Stop. Stop. Stop!'_

Something wasn't right.

_'Pull back, Dylan. Pull back!'_

Was that his own voice in his head?

But…to pull back from Heaven? Who could possibly….

_'Dylan, get out of there!'_You can do this, Dylan. Pull away from her.

_'I will, just one more lick,' _he sighed.

With a feral growl, he pushed himself away, practically tossing himself from her across the room. He landed against the far wall with a thud.

Blood swam through his body, both filling and fulfilling him.

"Breathe, breathe," he urged himself, his eyes shut tight, trying to get past the urge to go back to his gruesome task.

It wasn't until then that he recognized the single horrific, continuous beep from the monitor. The electronic flashing heart on the monitor was a still glowing beacon, the number underneath at an ominous zero. Flat lined.

No. No. He hadn't take that much; he couldn't have taken that much. It was impossible for him to hurt her. There was no way.

It was all in his head...he was only seeing the heart monitor incorrectly. He moved closer to it, watching with nausea as the heart didn't start.

"Come on, work," he demanded the machine, smacking it with his hand, followed by the sound of cracking plastic. He didn't know his own vampire strength....which also meant he couldn't perform CPR without truly ending her life.

But, it was already over. Dylan placed his head delicately against her chest, feeling and listening for any sign of life. Anything. A breathe. A beat. A whisper.

There was nothing. _Nothing_. _Nothing…nothing…_

Footsteps pounded down the hall towards her room.

"Shit," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "No, no, _no_…"

A figure appeared at the window, crouched and ready to leap, it's fingers grasped the edge of the window like a predator ready to strike.

"Dylan, you need to come away from there! We need to leave now!"

"I--I can't leave her," he stammered between sobs. "I have to save her…"

"You can't. She's gone," the vampire sighed. "I'm sorry."

_Sorry?!?! _All he could say was he was _sorry?!?! _

"You can help me, can't you, Jesse?"

"It's too late, Dylan. You need to leave _now _before the humans get to the room."

Panicked, he darted to the window. Jesse jumped from the ledge and freefell to the ground, landing with expert precision on his legs. Dylan didn't think he had the guts to attempt that same leap.

He dangled his legs out the window to depart, only to twist around to see his beautiful, still angel lying in peace.

"_I'm so sorry_," he apologized to her, the tears gushing from his eyes. "I'm sorry you met me. I'm sorry I did this to you. I'm sorry I'm weak. But most of all, I'm sorry I couldn't save you….instead, I killed you. I'm your murderer. "

Mid-cry, he jumped down, not caring if he'd make it safely to the ground. He didn't care anymore. Part of him hoped that the whole vampire thing was just a dream and he'd break into a million pieces. He hoped it all would end. There was no life without her in it.

Somehow, he managed to land on his feet, surprised to find nothing broken.

"Not bad," Jesse commended, before grabbing the young vampire's shirt. "Come on, we have to go now."

Dylan was practically dragged by Jesse into the woods, finding it hard to keep up with him.

Did he care? Nope. Not one bit. His life as he knew it was over.

He wanted to run, he needed to escape. He need to go as far away as possible.

Run. Run. Run.

"Let me go," he yanked.

Surprisingly, he found he was stronger than Jesse; much stronger. One small yank from him resulted in Jesse hurtling into the rough trunk of a nearby tree.

Run. Run. Run.

He darted between trees like a specter in the night, a mere shadow of his previous human self.

Dylan had to run from it, to elude anything that reminded him of her. He just had to runaway.

He was on his way until he ran straight into a brick wall.

"Dylan, stop," a voice ordered him.

He was being held down, arms wrapped tightly around him from the back. As he struggled, he was pulled down to the ground. Another figure appeared on his chest.

"Calm down," the voice tried to soothe.

"I don't want to calm down," he screeched, flailing at his captors.

He grunted as something pinched his hand.

His started to swim, his body becoming limp and useless. He felt his eyelids bobbing up and down, drooping against their will. _What in the Hell was happening?  
_  
"That should work for now," a male said. "At least we'll be able to take care of him without anyone else getting' hurt. You ok?"

"He scratched me good but I'm ok," a female said.

"It would be more pleasant if he'd _get off _of me. Can someone roll him over," a girl said from underneath.

Dylan found himself being lifted against his will, the small figure underneath him moving before his back was once again on the cold, damp forest floor.

His head lolled to the side and he could see the figure of the girl who was under him, her arm over her injured ribs.

"Mom?"

Her eyes met his, the tears just at the surface…but she wasn't crying.

"You ok," Dean asked her, suddenly by her side.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little bruised. I warned you, newborns are a bitch," she smirked. "You ok Gwennie?"

"Oh just peachy, your kid just gave me a cool scar down my arm," she chuckled. "I'm just glad we got my nephew's ass down."

She appeared by his side, her smile sad. Gwen brushed his hair away from his face.

"We just didn't want you to hurt yourself," she whispered. "We love you."

Sure, like he deserved love after what he did.

He saw his mother turn away.

The Winchesters were quiet…too quiet. That meant one thing; they were disappointed beyond words. For some reason, that made what he did to Becky hurt a thousand fold. Not only did he kill her, but he killed his relationship with his parents. They would do anything for him. He knew that. But…he didn't think that would happen anymore. It couldn't. He was a monster. If anything, he just wished his dad would take him out already…

"Don't," his mother choked, obviously hearing what he was thinking. Damn he wish he could have the power to shield. Too bad his dad had injected him with a little Dead Man's Blood.

"Why not, Mom? Shouldn't he?"

"How--how could you…_what were you thinking_," she screamed at him.

Her emotions hit him like a moving truck. They were volatile, a live wire of anger and regret coming at him at over 100 miles an hour.

"Why," she asked. "WHY?!"

"Abby," Dean whispered to her, his arm wrapped her kneeling form. His forehead rested against the side of her head as he whispered words to her. Dylan found it funny that he could hear it as if his father was saying it to him.

"Now's not the time, babe. We…we need to be gentle, alright? Gotta play this cool, alright? We need to help him. He needs help," he said. "April needed it too, remember? She's ok now. Our kids have done stupid shit but it's our job to help them. Let's do that, alright? You can gush all about it later. Me, you, your ranting and couple of beers. Sounds like a date to me. For now, we have to get him somewhere safe."

"….Ok, thanks," Gwen's voice returned. "Seems Lenore already knows. She wants us to bring him in."

"Already," Abby questioned. "But he needs to detox?"

"Lenore already has a room ready at the Chicago and Michigan locations. There's a doc already waiting. She--she want's him in custody."

_Custody?_

"I--I know he broke the law…but he's a _kid_," Abby pleaded.

"You know the rules, Ab. We can contest it later, but for now, we've got a meeting with her downtown."

* * *

How could it happen? Was she that bad of a parent that her children slipped that much off the beaten path?

She glanced back at him, laying calmly in the backseat of the Impala fast asleep; just like he used to as a little kid. For some reason, being in the car always relaxed him.

"It'll be ok," Dean choked back, squeezing her wrist with his free hand. "We'll figure somethin out."

"Lenore is going to want to keep him for punishment," she sighed.

"What do ya mean?"

Abby described what 'doing time' meant for a vampire. Yes, they had a jail with rations, hardly any sunlight or fresh air. Your food consisted of blood from the grossest of animals. And a life sentence? That just meant forever…or until you offed yourself.

"So you're sayin he could be locked up for a long ass time," Dean glanced over at her, his brows furrowed.

"Yep…and that also means no visitors. Sometimes ever," she said matter-of-factly.

"He--he couldn't' get that kinda sentence though, right," he asked. "I mean, he's just a stupid ass kid…and Lenore is like a fuckin' aunt to him."

"Doesn't matter," Abby stoically replied. "_I _warned him; that constitutes as a direct order from the local nest in authority. He broke the law and I doomed him."

"It'll be…"

"Don't patronize me, Dean. We don't know if everything will be ok. And, on second thought, when has anything for us ever been, ok," she chuckled sarcastically at the very thought. "Nothing has ever gone right. We've hit shit at every turn."

He didn't reply because he couldn't argue.

She stewed silently, wondering what Lenore truly planned. From what Gwen had told them, he was to be held downtown until the funeral for Becky. Lenore that it best that he attend, so as to not draw attention by his absence. Then, he was to be shipped for formal detoxing at the clinic in Michigan until he was clean. After that…who knew.

Though it might be considered wrong, she had sway as a higher up and leader. Abby knew she had to pull strings. If her son was one of those vampires who enjoyed killing for fun and who broke the law often, she might not be willing to risk her reputation as fair and just. But, it was _her son _and he was a great kid. She would do everything in her power to save him.

"You know what," Dean said, breaking the eerie silence in the car. "Our life may not be the best, ya know…and we may have our fights and issues…we're not the freakin' Keatons or Seavers…we're not what anyone would call normal…but…we're a family. Despite all the bullshit we had to go though, getting dragged over fucking broken glass to get to where we are now…I'd do it all over again."

Abby laid her head against the headrest, gazing lovingly at her husband. She reached over and caressed his hand clutching the steering wheel.

"Me too."

* * *

"What if I don't want to go," he scoffed.

"You're going. Consider this part of your punishment," Lenore said from the seat next to him, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

The funeral seemed like a blur. He stood near the back, his eyes dry. He didn't have anymore tears to give; they were all gone the day that he left her.

He nodded to his family, who were on the opposite side of the plot, the coffin ominously spanning the distance between them. His mom and dad smiled sadly at him. April waved her hand. Jamie, being the little kid that he was, ran right up to him to give him a hug. Lenore allowed it. Jamie didn't know any better. The rest of the family knew they were supposed to keep their distance.

Dylan smiled, letting his brother know he'd be home soon. Well, lying would be the better word to use.

"I'm sorry about Becky," Jamie said as he pulled away to rejoin the rest of the family. "She was really nice to me."

"Thanks," Dylan choked up. "See you soon, kid. Love you."

"Love you too, brother," he smiled back, running back to his sister's side.

April pulled him to her, nodding to Dylan, a sign that she was going to look after him. Good.

The look on April's face tore him up. His sister, his twin, wasn't just grieving for a lost friend…but she was grieving for a lost brother. The two of them had never, ever been separate. From the time they were born, they were together. Partners in crime. For fuck's sake, they'd even gone through Hell together and somehow came out clean on the other side.

She smiled at him, probably hearing his thoughts.

_'Love you, brother,' _she sent to him mentally, a warm hug in his mind. _'Get better and come home soon. I miss you.'__'Love you too, sis. Stay safe, ok,' _he sent back, trying to make it as clear as possible.

_'I'll be ok. Besides, I've got a lot of folks looking out for me,' _she said, glancing behind her towards a familiar figure; Jesse.

_'Please thank Jesse for…getting me out that night. And…let him know I'm sorry for everything,' _he sent.

She nodded.

As the funeral ended, his mother made her way over to him. Lenore groaned and rolled her eyes, meeting her halfway between them.

They argued softly, probably too soft for any normal person could make out.

"Stay here," the vampire to his right ordered.

He stayed still. From what he'd seen so far, Max, the prison guard, didn't fuck around.

Abby gave Lenore a dirty look as Dean held her shoulders. Was his mom about to lunge at her boss to get at him? Her over protectiveness made him smile.

"This is for the best, Abby. I promise, when this is all over, everyone will be satisfied," Lenore sighed.

"I won't be satisfied until my son is safe at _home_," Abby snarled at her.

"And the nest won't be satisfied until he's paid for this crime," she whispered, her eyes darting to the white casket covered in yellow roses. "You should know this as a leader." Lenore ran a hand through her hair, her eyes softening. "Abby, you are my best hunter and one of my best friends. You know this is not a personal attack. This is just business. Perhaps…perhaps it would be wise of me to resign you from your duties for a little while…"

"What," she said, Dean tightening his grip on her shoulders.

"This is too personal. You love your son. I love your son…but I must keep the order in this town. Take some time off to recover. Go somewhere with your family. Enjoy yourselves and know that your son is safe with us and will be home soon."

"I will not stand idly by while my son _rots _in prison," she snapped, causing his father to wince.

"The hearing is in a week. Come voice your opinion and we will take it into consideration. However, I'm expecting the testimony of a second in command and not the mother of the captive. Do I make myself clear?"

Abby didn't answer.

"Take care of yourself, Abby. I will call you with an update shortly," she said before turning back towards Dylan and Max.

She nodded towards Max before motioning towards the waiting car.

Dylan watched as his family left, going back towards the Impala. His parents both turned to him as they walked away, their eyes filled with regret and need. They wanted their son back. He wanted to go home.

He gave them a small smile of reassurance, hoping beyond hope that they'd be ok. Fuck himself. He didn't give a fuck. But…he never wanted to hurt them.

"Dylan."

He was startled by the voice suddenly next to him, turning to find Lenore at his side.

"Max is over by the car just in case you try to run. Since everyone is gone, I think you should get sometime to say goodbye to her…for good behavior," she patted his shoulder. "I'm going over by Max. Remember, don't try to run. That would be pointless."

He inhaled deeply, his chest shaking with every breathe. Dylan knew he had to do it. It was part of his punishment, part of what he deserved. He had to face what he caused…what he did.

He slowly made his way over to the flower-covered coffin, the top looking gold from the reflection of the yellow roses on the surface. Becky loved yellow roses. She loved the way they reminder her of summer and the sun, of everything cheerful and bright.

"Do you know that rooms painted in yellow have made people go insane," she once told him, reading from her psychology textbook. He had laughed at her. Sometimes, she had the most random comments.

But now…he could understand that. Yellow was about to drive him insane.

A tear slowly fell down his cheek as his dark eyes scanned the coffin from top to bottom. She was in there, cold and alone, her body lifeless. All because of him.

His eyes glanced to the large photo of her placed next to her grave, a small garland of orange and yellow flowers surrounding her beautiful face. It was her Senior photo. Prom, graduation, college were all plans that would never to come to fruition. All because of him. He took it all away from her. His plan to save her life ended everything. Her hopes, her dreams, her wish for a family…

Dylan could sense the angry swell rise from his chest, his eyes moist with sadness. He literally could feel the moment his heart shredded in two, never to be repaired again. And, he deserved it; all of it.

"I'm sorry, Becky. I'm so sorry."

* * *

April dropped onto the couch, her tea-length black dress bunching underneath her.

"Why don't you go change," her mother said to her younger brother, who dashed up the stairs to get into more comfortable play clothes. "You too, April. "

"I'm fine, Mom."

Her mother nods somberly to her, going towards the kitchen, her father following softly behind. Dean stops in front of her, giving his daughter one of his famous smiles.

"Shitty day, huh," he said, loosening his tie. "God I hate these freakin things."

He fought with it before April stood up and gave him some help. Unfortunately, 'help' from a vampire resulted in a ripped tie.

"Oops," she giggled.

"Didn't like that one anyways. Blame your Mom for that ugly piece of shit. She's always dressin me like a goddamned Blues Brother," he smirked and winked.

"It was a plain black tie, you ass," her mother yelled from the kitchen. "_You _want something else, _you _go shopping!"

Ah, it was nice to lighten the mood after the funeral. They all needed a little pep. The only person around their house with any sign of it was Jamie.

"Looks like something came in the mail for ya," Dean said, flipping her a black envelope from the pile of mail on the coffee table.

She tore it open, looking at a crisp, formal black and white invitation.

"What's that," he asked, sitting on the chair, shuffling through the rest of the envelopes.

"The invitation to prom," she sighed.

"You goin," he asked.

"Doesn't seem right…you know…with the whole Becky thing," she whispered.

"Have a date," her dad prodded.

"Maybe," she smirked.

There was another envelope inside her own, one addressed to a Mrs. Winchester. _Mrs?  
_  
"Hey mom, there's something in here for you too," she called to her from the living room.

"Open if for me," she shouted from the kitchen over the running water.

"Huh, that's funny…they want you to chaperone Prom. Didn't think they'd request people to do it. Weird."

Her mom called back that it wasn't a problem; she'd do it.

"What's the theme this year," Abby asked.

"Masquerade," April read from the card of instructions. "Black and white attire is preferred…and everyone must wear a mask."


	27. Somethin' to Hide

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

Sam barely catches the cold beer bottle Dean throws at him as he walks through the door.

"Thanks," he laughs. "Didn't know you could read minds now too."

"You've got a pregnant chick at home, believe me, I know," Dean smirked, holding up his own brew to salute him.

He took a swig of beer and plopped down on the familiar microfiber living room couch. Many a nightly meeting had occurred at the Winchester house. Everyone he knew felt at home as soon as they walked through the door. It had basically become the _Cheers _of their little group.

Dean sighed and sank down into his favorite chair, reclining back, putting his drink on the side table.

"So how is the wife feelin," Dean inquired.

"Well, I didn't know that morning sickness didn't just happen in the morning. She's exhausted from throwing up all morning..._and_ day..._and_ night."

"Gross. How are you holdin' up, bro?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Sam yawned, causing Dean to smile.

"It gets better," his older brother said after a sip. "Abby had it bad at first when she was pregs with the twins. Of course, I never knew. Her and her vampy ways; she was so quiet. She was so quick and silent, I never actually ever heard her get sick. Lucky me, right?"

"Seriously? When," he laughed, leaning forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Remember when she was meeting us between hunts when she was carrying the twins," Dean explained. Sam remembered. Much to Dean's dislike, Abby had continued to hunt after she found out she was pregnant. They had argued if it was right for her to continue in her condition. Abby won that fight. Although Dean had conceded, he had one vital stipulation; she had to meet up with them every week or so. Sam always thought it was more because he'd miss her more than he was checking up on her. "It was then in those god-awful motels. Hell_, I _didn't even like hurlin' in those things. I swear, I wish she woulda told me. I don't know--I wish I coulda been there for her. God, she must be the quietest puker ever."

Dean smiled at him, giving him a contemplative look.

"It gets better, Sammy…and just wait till that little squirmy baby is in your arms the first time. Niagara Falls, Sammy angel," Dean laughed, putting a spin on his favorite line from _Scrooged_.

He had to admit, part of him was starting to warm up to the concept of being a dad. This time, it wasn't just in the entirely biological sense. Sure, he had a son, but it wasn't truly his. Dean had done a much better job, hell, a _great_ job, than Sam could ever hope to emulate. For some reason, having a relatively shitty upbringing had made Dean the ideal father. He knew his limits, he knew when to push and hold back and he was protective of his kids but not to the point of insanity like their dad. Most of all, Dean and Abby _loved_ their kids. There never was a time Sam would question anything about their family's affinity for one another; each wore their hearts on their sleeves.

"So, Sam, are you hopin' for a nerdy boy like you or an evil girl like your wife," his brother smirked.

"Nice, Dean," Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm just jokin' with ya. Come on, let's hear it. Ya gotta have an opinion about it."

"I really don't care as long as its--," Sam started before Dean stopped him.

"Don't finish that. That's the pansy way out."

"Ok, what are _you_ hoping Ruby is having," Sam wondered.

"I'd like a little niece to spoil. Boys are nice and all, usually like to follow in your footsteps…but those little girls, man. They just do something to you. Hard to explain. It's like…seeing outside yourself for the first time, you know? Like, you have to take care of someone else and you just goddamn know it."

"Aww, ain't that sweet. So, you're saying having a daughter turned you into a woman," Sam joked. Dean threw the metal beer cap at him.

"Shut up, Sam. Just because of that, I hope Ruby has a whole litter of them. THEN you'll see what I mean."

Sam always wondered if Dean and Abby ever wanted more kids. Deep down, he thought that they both may have wanted just one more; probably a girl. Two of each seemed pretty good and even.

Speaking of his sister-in-law, Sam asked where Abby was for the day.

"Out with April getting prom stuff. They asked if I wanted to tag along and I said no freakin' way," he raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Rather fight a few ghouls barehanded…tied up even." Dean shivered, chugging back the rest of his drink.

"It's just _prom_, Dean. It's not like it would have killed you to go shopping," Sam chuckled.

"I think I would have died a little inside," his brother joked. "But, in all seriousness, Sammy…it's just too soon, ya know?"

Dean's eyes wandered, tracing an invisible pattern on the floor.

"She's only supposed to be just getting to be a teenager, Sam." That hit him like a ton of bricks. His own stomach twisted in tight knots from guilt, knowing full well who made those kids age before their time. "She's just supposed to be ending middle school, not ending high school. It's a little too soon for prom," his brother chuckled. "I'm just havin' a rough time with that. The other day, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. April was sitting with Abby going over possible colleges..._colleges_! I'm not _that_ old."

"It'll be ok, Dean," Sam chuckled. "I promise."

"God I hope so," he smirked, laying his head back further against the chair headrest. "You know, I always thought Dyl would follow in my footsteps, meaning the garage. But, he was always more like you, Sammy. He liked to read, draw....real artsy fartsy. Then there was April, who painted her Barbie car black to make it look like 'Daddy's car.' She'd sing a long to Rush when we went out for a ride, askin' me all about the Impala on the way to the park. Sometimes I look at her and see that goofy little girl with pigtails, missing her teeth...I'm not ready for Prom...or whatever happens after that."

"It's going to happen sooner or later, Dean," Sam smiled reassuringly to his brother. "All you gotta know is that you raised her right. Believe me, I can only hope to be as good of a dad as you. Guess that's because…the only person I ever had to look up to was you. You always took care of me--"

"Dad did too, in his own way. He loved you," Dean said, playing with the label on the bottle. He always did that when Sam would touch on a conversation his brother didn't want to have.

"Yeah, Dad did. I loved him too. But--"

"There's a but?"

"He wasn't the one who always took care of me; who took me to the arcade, watched movies with me, played Battleship until I was too tired to win? He wasn't the one to tuck me in every night. That was _you_. So I guess what I'm saying is…if I could be anywhere near how good you were to me as a kid, for my own kid, then…I think I'll be ok."

Dean sighed and remained silent. Speaking about their pasts, and the things they were forced to endure as kids, was no longer a fun subject. Part of Dean was ok with the life he had but a big chunk of him resented it. Sure, it made him grow up to be what he needed to be, but after seeing his own kids, he realized how much they missed.

"God, I wish I woulda gone with them now. Thanks, Sammy," he rubbed his eyes, not wanting Sam to see he was actually a little touched by what he said. And, Sam had meant it; every word of it. In many ways, Dean was more of a father to him than John could have ever been if he would have tried.

"So guess male bonding ranks worse than fighting a couple of ghouls, huh," Sam smiled.

"Kinda, yeah," he chuckled. "Plus I just had a thought…I really, really, _really _hope that April is picking out something…appropriate," Dean cleared his throat.

Sam spit out his beer. _Did Dean just say appropriate?_

"Meaning?"

"When she walks in, I don't want a ton of guys lookin' at her like she's something just to scr--I want her to look as virginal and nun-like as possible," Dean said pointing at Sam. "Hell, I'd even go for unattractive. I woulda made her where the most covering dress I could find…with shoulder pads and one of those ruffly neck things. Or maybe in one of those things Janet Reno wears…she's super ugly. Or maybe just flannel pajamas, do you think they make em' with those footy things for someone her age?"

At that point, Sam was almost rolling on the couch. Payback was a bitch for the quintessential ladies man.

* * *

"What do you think," April pirouetted in a black, barely there dress. It was long and black, but the middle section was mostly a sheer dark gossamer with sequins. The semi-transparent fabric skirted just below her chest, diagonally to her left hip. If she bent over--

"WWDS," Abby sighed into her hands, her face resting in them. She was getting tired of her picking out those type of dresses.

"What Would Dad Say, yeah I know the tune," she stuck her tongue out. April turned to look at herself in the mirror, appearing almost a foot taller because of the stripper heels. Thank the dear lord Dean wasn't there to see his daughter dressed like that. "WWDS? D would kill me," she finally chuckled.

Good, at least she had _some _common sense.

"Guess dress number sixteen is a no. Here comes seventeen in a minute," her daughter smiled before disappearing in the dressing room.

Abby had seriously thought the day had a chance to be over relatively quickly. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying her alone time with her daughter. That wasn't it at all. It was just Abby had been under the impression that it would be easier to find a dress given the constraints of the occasion; find a black or white dress. How many could there possibly be? Apparently, from the rather large pile on the floor and still in the dressing room…a lot.

"What about this one," her daughter said, straightening out the tutu like dress in front of the mirror. It was, once again, black, but this time had a red satin sash around the waist.

"Do I have to repeat it again," Abby smirked.

April put her arms down, comparing the length of her fingertips to the hem of the dress; it was a good five inches shorter, maybe even more.

"Dad would kill me if I wore something this short," she chuckled. "Don't you think?"

"I'd kill you first," she laughed. "So, why all the black dresses, kid?"

"I don't know. I just like black, I guess," April said, still trying to find a way to get the dress she picked out to work.

Abby suggested she try on a white one instead.

"Mom...seriously? White," she made a face of disgust. "That's not really me."

Abby stood up behind her daughter, grabbing her playfully by the shoulders.

"You're lucky you have an slightly olive skintone like your Dad, April. I wish I wasn't so damned pale. Look," she wiggled her fingers against her daughter's skin. "I've _never_ been able to pull off white."

"Even your first wedding," April asked, her head turned to look over her shoulder.

"Nope. I wore a cream dress. At the last wedding to your Dad, I wore silver. Plus, you live over a hundred years, it's kinda silly to be wearing white at a wedding," she whispered and winked. April snorted and bent over laughing.

"TMI, Mom," she smiled. "But seriously? You think white?"

Abby nodded and ran over to the rack with all the white apparel. She quickly looked through the items, pulling out the ones she thought would look good on her daughter.

No. No. No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes. No.

"This one," Abby muttered to herself with a smile. "This is perfect."

She happily skipped over to the then closed dressing room.

"Toss it over," April gasped, still trying in vain to get out of the tutu evoking dress.

"This one first," she instructed her daughter, handing her the dress she knew would fit her the best.

Her daughter grumbled from the other side, asking her mom if she was serious. At first glance, April had definite disdain for the outfit.

"So," Abby inquired.

"So? So What?"

"The dress," she rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

There was no answer.

"Come on," she said rather impatiently.

"Ok, comin' out," April said.

The door opened with a click, her foot appearing from around the door first.

She had picked high heels that appeared clear on the bottom but were laced up her calves with black ribbon. Not necessarily her choice in shoes to be dancing all night, but they weren't hideous.

"_Oh, April,_" she said as her daughter came into full view.

"What do you think," she spun around, the white fabric swirling around her.

Just as she expected, the tea length dress fit her perfectly. The white did bring out her gorgeous skin tone, and the black ribbon sash around her waist accentuated her young curves.

"Do you think I can pull of strapless," she said, playing with the top, pulling it up.

"Hun, you're young, pull it off while you can. We'll get you a good supportive, strapless bra. You'll be more than fine," Abby said, pulling April's hair up, trying to decide what would look better for the dance.

"I would have paid any amount of money for Dad to be here while we're talking about my boobs," April snorted.

"So, do you think we have a winner," she asked her daughter.

April took one last look in the mirror, turning front and back, and nodded.

"Yep, this is it. I love it," she squealed.

"Finally," Abby mocked, pretending to be utterly exasperated before kissing her daughter on the forehead. "Come on, let's head to the mall to pick out your jewelry."

"And the tanning salon."

"Pardon?"

"I want to try to tan in the bed. Maybe get a little more color," she said, glancing at her wrist, Abby giving her dirty looks. "It's not going to _kill_ me. Maybe you could try it too."

"Well, it may kill _me_," she scoffed, pointing at her bracelet for emphasis. One slip of that and it would be curtains. April laughed and suggested she try the spray tan booth.

"It's safe, Mom. No UV. You'll be fine. Might be nice to see you with a little color," she joked. "But first, we need to find you a dress! Sit down, I'll go get some for you to try on!"

"Woah, woah, woah," Abby protested, falling back into the waiting room chair. "What?!"

"Mom, have you ever been to a prom," April asked, her hands tapping her hips.

No. Abby had never attended a prom, mostly because she didn't go for people in high school. She found teenagers to be rather annoying, especially when it came to dating. It was bound to happen when you were over a hundred years old.

"You need something to wear to Prom, Momma. Chaperone or not, you're still going and should look the part…"

"April, I don't know--"

"Damn it, Mom, you're going to let me do this and play dress up with you! Stay there and I'll be right back."

Oh boy, what had she gotten herself into? Abby knew she was in trouble.

* * *

"How's Dyl doin," Sam asked from his seat on the back patio, his arm draped over the back of the chair.

"Better," Dean said, flipping the burgers and hotdogs on the grill. He paused to wipe off a bead of sweat and took a sip of his cold beer. "He doesn't want to talk much. Lenore usually gives us the updates. The only person he'll talk to is April."

"Why? Why wouldn't he want to talk to you guys?"

"Well, Sammy, he's ashamed of what he did. I guess he doesn't wanna talk about anything until he figures out shit for himself. All I know is that it's killin' Abby to have him away. Guess that's why she's been spending so much time with April; they're both leaning on each other."

"I think a day like this is good for both of them," Sam smirked. "They need something else to do."

"Amen," Dean smiled, turning over his and Sammy's steak.

"God that smells good," Sam acknowledged, catching a whiff of the fresh meat sizzling. Carcinogens or not, they were going to eat like kings that night.

Sam looked down at his watch. Ruby said she was going to take a nap before heading over to the BBQ. The impromptu party was Dean's idea. He figured, why not get some brews, buy some grub and invite over his friends? Oh, Abby was gonna have a field day with that one.

"I'm doin' all the cookin' and cleanin', what the hell does she have to say about it," Dean had argued. Touché.

Still, _he_ would have called Ruby to let her know if he was having a whole gaggle of folks over. His brother would have made the cracking whip sound in response to that one.

"Cas said he and Gwen will be over soon," Dean said, placing his cell back in his pocket. "Gwen got caught up with something at work. She said she had to step in on Dylan's behalf. Apparently, since he's finally detoxed, they were takin' Abby and Gwen's plea for sentencing into consideration."

"And Lenore didn't call you," he asked, Dean shaking his head no. "Did she say what he got?"

"Yup."

"And?"

"Community Service for six months to a year," Dean shrugged, taking a swig of his drink.

_Community Service? What the hell did that mean in terms of the nest?_

"Basically, he has to work for them as a hunter."

"WHAT?!"

"Well, they figure one," he counts on his fingers, "He's gotta pay for what happened; payback society anyways. Two, he's worked as a hunter before. Whether it was small cases with April, he was still good. He knows a lot. They don't have to train a newbie from scratch."

"Guess that makes sense," Sam sighed. Hell, it had to be better than Dylan stuck in a cell. But, hunting wasn't for the faint of heart. He was sure Dylan was aware of that; he'd been out on enough of occasions, enough to know that it was dangerous. But he also knew Lenore was aware of it, and there was no way she was going to let her nephew go out there without proper guidance and protection. Dylan was going to be in safe hands and fine.

"At least we'll be able to see him soon. These last couple weeks have been too long," Dean sighed. "Well, that is if he even wants to see us. I gotta feelin' it still won't be for a while. His choice though. He needs to do what's right for him. We'll give him some space for a while, but eventually, he's gonna have to talk about it. Can't let that shit sit there and stew. I know better now. My job to make him understand that, right?"

"Daddy, we're home!"

"Out back," he yelled through the open door to the interior of the house.

"Come on, Mom," Sam heard April say to Abby.

"I'm _not_ going out there," he heard her mutter.

There was a loud bang from the living room.

"Let me go, April," she laughed. "I need to get up stairs ASAP!"

"Oh, you're fine, Momma. Come on, Uncle Sammy's out back too," she said, catching Sam by surprise.

"I _know_ he is, that's why I _need_ to get up--"

"Oh for Christ's sake," Dean said, slamming down the spatula on the grill side counter. "What the fuck is goin' on?"

Sam laughed, taking his beer and following Dean through the backdoor ito the house.

"Abby, what's wrong," Dean said, his tone becoming sterner.

She was covered head to toe in a black velour track suit, the hood on the jacket up consciously over her head, covering up almost every bit of skin.

"Why are you dressed like ," Sam joked with his sister-in-law.

"Leave me be," she said, pulling away again.

"Abby, seriously, you're scarin' me, what's wrong," Dean asked, putting a hand on each of his wife's shoulders.

Abby shied away again, trying to get back up stairs.

"Dad, it's not what you think," April chuckled, setting down their bags and two plastic covered hangers containing two dresses. "She's not hurt or anything."

"Then what," he said, his eyes serious.

"She's embarrassed," she laughed. "Mom, it's not _that _bad. Come on."

"It is _that _bad," Abby hissed. "Leave me alone, guys. I'll be back down in a minute."

"What the fuck is going on," Dean asked again. "Abby, look at me, please."

Her shoulders sagged and she slowly raised her head to look at her husband. As she pulled her hoodie back from her face, Sam gasped.

"What _happened_?"

* * *

Abby hated feeling like a freak show.

She had known that it was a bad idea, but she always had a hard time saying no to April. Call it love, adoration or stupidity, she was pretty much at her daughter's will. Besides, it was their mother-daughter day out together.

After their trip to the dress boutique, Abby suggested they go to the mall to look at some jewelry and hair decorations. Plus, April needed to get something to eat at the food court; she'd just get a cappuccino from _Starbucks_.

They took their time going through the stores in the mall, finally deciding on items of jewelry for both of them and deciding on hair adornments. It was nice to be out of the house, just the two them doing girly stuff. She hadn't done that since...since she could remember. It was a nice escape of what they had been dealing with at home.

"So...tanning bed," April suggested, sipping on her strawberry smoothie.

"April," Abby sighed, tossing her then empty coffee cup in the trash. "Seriously?"

"Mom, please? Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top," she smiled. When that didn't work, she brought out the puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

"Will you stop doing that if we go," she smirked.

"Maybe," she smiled.

Sigh.

"Fine, you lead the way," Abby said, giving her the keys to the car.

"Sweet," her daughter said, taking the keys from her.

The pair found their way through the mall, somehow maneuvering through the crowds of shopping teenage girls shopping for their prom apparel as well. Some waved and greeted her daughter, friends from school perhaps. April smiled at them, not introducing her mother to the girls. The fact was, she probably appeared more like her sister than her mother. It was also the general thought that was going through the girls' minds.

_'Her sister looks just like her. What a good-looking family.'_

_'Is that her twin? I heard she had a twin, but I thought it was Dylan?'_

_'Oh my god, if that's her mom, that family has some damn good genes.'_

_'...think she's so cool because she's good looking and has money...'_

"Come on, Ma," April whispered as they approached the mall exit.

Abby often wondered if it was hard for her to look the same age. After all, how would you explain it to your friends? The 'good genes' excuse would only last for so long. And then, what would happen when April started aging?

"You ok," April asked, glancing over at her mom as she started the car, pulling out of the spot and into the parking lot.

"I'm fine," she smiled as she played with the bags in her lap filled with the findings of her trip.

"Mom, I _know _you. You feel bad that I didn't introduce you to my friend's, right?"

"No, it's not that--"

"Yes, it is. Mom, I know you. Sure, my teachers know you, my closest friends and their parents know you're really my mom...but, yeah, it's hard for new friends I made in high school to believe it. I'm sorry if it upsets you," she smiled sadly. "I'll remember to do it again. I'm not like upset that you're my mom. You're like the coolest mom on the planet!"

"Thanks, baby," Abby smirked. "I appreciate it. To be honest, many women...my age--"

"Over a hundred," April laughed.

"Well, anyone over 40 are envious of girls like you. But, I must confess, appearing to be my age is more of a hindrance than a blessing. My mother was lucky enough to stop aging in her upper 20s. She could play more ages. It also helped that people back then had children a lot younger. Many just understood I was her daughter. If there was ever a time that it would harm our family, or our relationships within the family, we always just decided we would move. People didn't take much noticed when people left or disappeared. There wasn't a police force to be concerned about like there is now if you just up and left, but, we always felt we needed to establish roots for you guys. It was important for us for you and your brothers to have a stable home life. Guess it was because we never had much of an opportunity for it? I don't know. It was just something Dean and I firmly agreed on."

"You guys have done a great job...if that means anything," she smirked.

It meant a lot; a great deal to her. After she had her children, her only meaning in life was to be a good mother and to keep her children safe at all costs. Her entire life had changed in an instant and had redefined her entire existence forever.

They listened to the music on the radio, singing along to songs. Abby loved the way their voices harmonized together. Definitely, they rocked the house.

"Here we are," April cheered as they pulled into the parking lot.

The tanning salon boasted sales, ten different types of beds, including one that didn't involve any UV.

"I don't know," Abby muttered again.

"Come on," April smiled, taking the keys from the ignition and practically jumping out of the car. "Just try it."

"Fine," Abby sighed, slamming the car door behind her.

* * *

"So…is that why you look like an Oompa Loompa," Dean asked, getting a death stare from his wife.

"Well, apparently they didn't take my skintone into account…or the machine malfunctioned," she said, staring down at her bright orange hands. "Either way, I'm going to shower and scrub. I look ridiculous."

"No, no, no you don't," Sam said, trying to put on a straight face. "You look fine."

Dean and April couldn't hold back her giggles.

April's skin did appear a little darker. However, he wasn't sure if he liked her that way. O-natural was the way to go in his book. Girls who did that kinda shit always, as hot as they were, looked they were trying too hard.

Abby huffed at their laughter, rolling her eyes in their direction, before trudging up the stairs.

"Ah, come on, Ab," Dean chuckled. "Don't be like that."

A door slammed from their bedroom.

"Sam, watch the food. April, do something for your mom."

"But--"

"You owe her. Start by doing the dishes and laundry tonight to make it up to her," he ordered.

"Hey, I didn't turn on the machine and make her look like a pumpkin!"

Abby groaned from upstairs, her vampire hearing obviously zeroing in on the whole conversation below.

"Just do it, kid," he laughed.

He bounded up the stairs in record time, turning down the hallway on the second floor to their master bedroom.

Knock. Knock.

"Babe, come on," he said, with a slight chuckle. "Just open up."

"No."

"Don't be a baby. Open up."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Well, that's not very nice," he pretended to be offended.

He knew she was smiling by that point.

"Look, I know you're looking at yourself in the mirror right now and laughing…so can't you just let me in. I promise I won't laugh at you anymore."

No answer.

"Please, hun?"

Click.

She unlocked the door. Score.

He peeked in to find he was dead right; she was standing in front of her dresser with the hoodie off, looking at herself. With the combo of the black camisole underneath and the black track pants…and that skin, she looked like Halloween. Well, and the fact that she was a vampire only tripled that.

She saw him in the mirror and spun around to face him.

"I look ridiculous."

"Yeah, you kinda do," he smirked.

"I mean, I've fallen in a pig corral before after getting hit by a hog, having to walk 2 miles home with my ass muddied by pig crap…and _this _is worse. I made April stop at Target on the way home and buy this suit so I could walk around with out looking like…well like _this_."

"Aww, babe," Dean smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You're fine. You're still hot as hell."

"Gee thanks," she said, shirking from his grasp. "I don't feel like it."

"Maybe you will if you take a shower? Go. Get clean," Dean ordered, pushing her into the bathroom. "Need any help to scrub?"

"I might," she smirked devilishly. "Wanna join me?"

"I don't know," he smiled playfully, raising an eyebrow. "We have company downstairs."

"Fine," she huffed, slipping out of her pants and pulling her shirt over her head. "Your loss I guess. I coulda been quiet."

There she stood in front of him, in all her naked glory. Damn, how did he get so lucky?

Abby sashayed over to the shower, turning it on, mouthing the words _'background noise.'_How in the hell was he gonna turn that down?

"Please," she practically begged. "I want you to make me feel beautiful again…"

He locked the door behind him.

Dean came up behind her and she spun around, biting her lip. God, she was steamy hot…but he couldn't help himself.

"So, if I touch you, you're orange isn't going to flake off on my hand like a Cheeto, is it?"

She laughed heartily, tossing her head back, before kicking him out the room. Well, he had no one to blame for that cock block but himself. Way to go, Dean.

* * *

  
Abby couldn't help but laugh at herself in the mirror. Dean was right; she did look like an Oompa Loompa.

The feel of the warm water cascading her skin had been a nice change in pace from the day. Perhaps that would relax her and give her a better nights sleep? She'd remember that before she headed to bed.

Sleeping had become a precious commodity as of late, her slumber being interrupted by the same dream over and over; the same nightmare starring her brother, James. Only, it had changed. It shifted more often. The setting was never static; it was always shifting and morphing, sometimes into places she had never scene before in her entire life. But, no matter what the dream, the message was the same. She could have stopped something?

Was it already too late?

If so, why had the dreams become more consistent?

The feeling in the pit of her stomach was a clincher. She knew in her heart of hearts that it was still to come. James was warning her and getting her ready; something was coming.


	28. Knock Down Walls

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I will be posting images of the Prom Outfits tonight!

* * *

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, April," Gwen chuckled, steadying the charcoal makeup wand in her pale hand. "Just hold still, little lady, and let me finish your mascara. I really don't mean to keep poking you in the eye."

"Sure you don't," she giggled, forcing herself not to move as her adoptive aunt finished up her makeup.  
"How 'bout you , Mom? What's goin' on with that mop up there?"

"Hold. _Still_," Gwen ordered, stamping her foot like an impatient child.

"Almost done, baby," Abby managed to speak through her laughter. "Just stay still before your aunt has a conniption."

"Hey, if _she _wants to look like a raccoon at her prom, then by all means, keep squirming, kid," Gwen said as she brushed on what April could only assume was liquid eyeliner.

She had to admit, she did thoroughly enjoy the exclusive pampering she'd received that day, courtesy of her mother and aunt.

The boys had all been sent out on some sort of 'guy's day,' leaving Gwen, Ruby, Abby and April to have a day of rest, leisure and beauty before her big dance that evening.

The day started fine enough with manicures and pedicures, followed by a not-so-healthy combo of junk food and bad romance movies on the Lifetime network.

"God, these movies make me want to throw up," Ruby groaned just after the marathon of decidedly bad films had finally ended.

"What doesn't make you want to throw up nowadays," Abby smirked, giving the pregnant woman a playful wink.

"Touché, Ab," Ruby replied, slightly struggling to get herself off the couch, her baby bump just beginning to show.

"Oh, this is so much fun," Gwen squealed, wiggling her newly painted toes in the air. "_I_ never got a prom." She sighed dreamily, tossing herself against a heap of pillows piled up on the floor behind her.

"Me neither," Abby commiserated, holding her hands at arms length out to look at her own shimmering fingertips. "Ruby?"

"Nope. Proms didn't exactly exist in the 1300s," she smirked as she made her way to the bathroom for perhaps the sixth time that afternoon. Guess it was true about pregnant women and their bladders. For as many times as they evacuated in a day, they might as well set up camp in the commode.

"So no dances for any of you…ever," April inquired, pulling her knees to her chest, gently rocking back and forth on the floor.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Abby jumped in. "Dances were quite popular during my time. It was a way of meeting people, of being together as a community. They were the social gatherings of the year. Everyone in the town attended. Plus, it was a way for the boys to court one us ladies. But, no, they weren't like _today_. They were gentile and elegant, always surrounded with good wine and bathed in candle light. They held a sense of…"

"Romance," Gwen added, wrapping her arms around herself and smiling. "_Oh_ I always wanted to go to a nice dance. It was my dream to have someone sweep you right off your feet."

"Never been to one like Mom's," April asked, intrigued by the sad longing in her aunt's eyes.

"Oh, gosh _no_," she shyly grinned. "You see, I lived out in Tombstone, Arizona in the 1880s. There were not many fancy dances going on."

From the way her mother gave Gwen a small, reassuring smile, April knew there was some sort of story behind the emergence of her past; some sort of pain that was just barely contained under the stilled surface.  
April truly knew very little of Gwen and Ruby's pasts, only that they both were hurt in the respective paths that lead to bad decisions. Ruby, she decided to make a deal with the devil, inadvertently selling her soul and becoming a demon. Gwen, she had stopped aging, and from what she had implied long before, it was not exclusively by choice.

"How I'd watch those girls in their nice, _clean _long dresses shuffle into the town hall," Gwen lamented, moving to flop down on the couch, laying belly down, her chin resting on her crossed forearms. "They looked so pretty and quaint. I'd look down at my red and lace and wonder…what the hell was I doin'?"

April's eyes shot to Gwen's, her face full with renewed curiosity. _Red and lace? What was that all about?_

"I was a saloon girl," Gwen admitted with an arched eyebrow for wicked emphasis. "Well…sort of. We didn't just serve drinks." She stopped and looked away. "They called us Soiled Doves. Nice, huh?"

"That's terrible," April said, sitting up with her legs stretched out, her body resting back on her arms.

"It was. But…I had no folks. My father abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me. He was a prominent businessman with a family out East. I supposedly had half-siblings but I never wanted to look. Doubt they missed me; he didn't seem to…why would they? I'd bet my garter he didn't even tell them about me. As far as my Momma; my mom went out to go hunt one night…and never came back. She told me once that if that ever happened, to run away as fast as I could. We were living out in Nebraska at the time so I headed more West as fast as I could. On foot, by stage,--however I could manage. I made it to Tombstone, and boy was it booming at the time. However, there were only so many jobs for women…and I had no money. So, I just kinda fell into that job," she smirked. "I was seventeen when I started and by the time I was twenty, I wanted _out_. I was tired and feeling less of myself. Sure, the human blood was plentiful; I could always get a little from my clients and make them forget about it. That was an easy trick and perhaps the only good part of the occupation. It was a vampire's dream. But the other part, the feeling less than you are. I was done; period. And, then it happened. One day, I was trying to get a little from my client when he broke out of his trance. He _knew _what I was. He was a hunter, and figuring out what I was, was intent on killing me. I struggled but he had so much Dead Man's Blood pouring down my throat. Of course, he figured, he paid for me, so he got what he paid for. He raped me first before he officially tried to kill me. My madam rushed in right before he was going to strike the final blow. She shot him right in the chest with a Winchester Rifle. Ironic, huh? Those Winchesters have been saving my life since the 1800s."

"Ha, ha. Real cute," Ruby scoffed, taking her seat back in the recliner.

April asked her politely to continue on with the story, fascinated by her friend's past.

"Madam told me to go away, get out and not to come back. For some reason, I always suspected she knew what I was. Maybe it was more of the fact that she felt sorry for me, having no folks…but she never babied me. She never asked. Yeah, she must have known. But, to end my saga, I left. I went even further West to San Diego. I guess the rape is what triggered my anti-age gene. I'm still not sure. Either way, I made my 'round the United States until I fell into the nest. I can't say I've been happier than I am now," Gwen smiled.

"Any boys back then…I mean, that you liked," April questioned.

"Not really. Sure, I had my flings, but there hasn't been anyone like my Cas," she grinned, her whole face literally lighting up. She was beaming. All the girls awed at once.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "I'm not going to lie that he hasn't made me over the moon happy."

"Does he know about your past," Ruby inquired.

Gwen nodded adamantly. She would never keep anything from him, including that. Sure, it was a sordid tale from her past, but if he truly loved her, he'd take her along with the bad things she'd done.

"Ruby, you next," Gwen asked, sitting up to look at their pregnant friend.

"Me next what," she looked inquisitively.

"Your past," Gwen smiled. "Come on, we're all spilling our guts here. Well, all except, April. She's young, doesn't have torrid tales to give away."

"Maybe I'll surprised you," April winked.

"I hope not," her mom muttered.

"Ok. I was born and raised in the English countryside. I was poor. My mom was a practicing pagan, my dad wasn't. That good enough for you," Ruby spat.

"Geesh…sorry," Gwen rolled her eyes. "Spoiled sport if you ask me. I spilled _all _the beans….or most of them anyways."

"No one asked you to," Ruby chided.

"But, Aunt Ruby…how did you become a demon in the first place," April pondered aloud. "I mean, there was a reason, right? You didn't just die and go down to…you know. Did you?"

Ruby sighed, looking over to Abby, almost pleading with her to change the subject. Abby shrugged and told her it was her story to tell; she could put a stop to it if she didn't feel comfortable sharing.

"Fine. I was nineteen, considered an old maid for my time. I was an outcast because of my upbringing, mostly because of my mother's beliefs. I was raised how she was, so in turn, I was looked at as bad; evil. However, if someone ever became ill, guess who door they came knocking on for a miracle cure? Ours. One day, it so happened that a village boy was dropped at our door by his family. He was ill, shivering and sweating all over. We had no idea what he had. It was wet and damp outside, per the usual for that time of year. The rain never seemed to stop and the air hadn't been dry in over a year. The man was in his twenties, he had just lost his wife from whatever was ailing him. My mother took charge immediately, quarantining the young man in our sick room. She told the parents she would do all she could under complete discretion. The parents seemed appeased and left. I remember my mother going to work with her mortar and pestle, grinding up healing herbs. She was really ahead of her time."

"Sounds like it," Abby commented, leaning against her knees.

"She ordered me to tend to the boy and fetch good clean water for him to drink. We were surprisingly clean for our time. My mother was convinced keeping clean was the best way to live. Hell, we were even washing our hands in the bucket before and after meals, disposing of the dirty liquid after every bath."

She paused, chuckling a little to herself at her memories, playing with the hem of her t-shirt.

"His name, I came to find out, was Elias. He was silent for much of the first week, only gasping on occasion for water or for his wife in his heated hysteria. His hair was black and shaggy, strands matted with sweat over his closed eyes. I remember sitting there, wetting his brow to keep him cool, wondering what color his eyes were. Then, one day about a week and a half after he came to our house, his fever finally broke and he opened those eyes. They were a deep, glazed-honey brown, almost tawny, and…they were _beautiful_," she paused, closing her eyes, her lips slightly parted. "I had never known a real spell, though I had attempted many…but he had me under his spell. Lame, I know…but there was _something _about his look; it was as if his gaze penetrated me. Me, who had resigned herself to be an old maid by nineteen, a spinster…the typical image of a traditional witch up in the old, ramshackle cottage. That was what I was meant to become, who I was meant to be…but he _changed _all that with one look into those eyes."

She went on to tell of their courtship. He stayed on at Ruby family's home as their ward until he was at full health. The two learned about each other, gauging each other more so than most people in their day and age. They took their time, discovering more about one other everyday. Elias didn't care about her dabbling in the supernatural. After all, it had saved his behind. She was careful with his heart, knowing that he had just recently lost his wife, although his feelings for her were sub par. It had been more of an arranged marriage of convenience than one out of love. That is not to say that he didn't grieve for the loss, but it was more of the loss of a friend than that of a lover or companion.

Once Elias moved back to his house, their relationship took a turn.

"Even once he moved back home, he'd come to see me. It eventually led to more and it became clear that he was courting me. _Me_--I wouldn't have believed it unless I was there. To be honest, I didn't get why guys didn't like me. It wasn't like I wasn't pretty," she shrugged, as she described her actual appearance as a human; petite with long, deep brown hair with tints of red, shading her deep brown eyes. She said it wasn't that fair off from the person she had become in the present. "But, then it happened. Right as things were getting good, he got sick again…and this time, it was apparent that it was worse than before. His system had been compromised from the last illness and he had caught it--no one would survive the Great Pestilence; the Black Death."

"My mother told me of that time," Abby lamented, looking somberly over to her sister-in-law. "She lived in England at the time. It was a great time for vampires; not so great for humans. My mother said that streets were filled with bodies piled on one another. They buried bodies in mass graves or burned them--sometimes they burned people alive. She described a scene of utter panic and chaos."

Ruby sighed and nodded, reliving the moment that she realized the only man that ever truly loved her was doomed to die.

"He had at most eight days if we were lucky. Then, we had a week, maybe two at most before we'd most likely contract it and meet the same fate. It was all because of me, because I continued to see him; I brought the Black Death home to my family," she struggled to say.

Gwen rebuked her observation, explaining to Ruby that it wasn't her fault. What happened was a disease, it was airborne; the chances of her family coming down with it was higher just because they breathed air. It really had nothing to do with her.

"I'm sure your father met with people, that there were times that he could have brought it home," Gwen tried to help out. "I mean, he didn't just stay at home, did he?"

"No. He spent most of his time in church," she smirked.

Bingo. Even April knew from her history classes that a lot of people during that time swarmed their local churches, atoning for sins, seeking redemption before they succumbed to a knowing death. Bedlam.

"By the fifth day, his fever had spiked too high, the blisters on his skin boiling up. I didn't know what to do. I--I was desperate. I asked my mother if there were any miracle cures in her spell book, anything that could use. She didn't have an answer. For the first time in my life, my mom had nothing to say. _Nothing _to help. I dug into her ancient books to find anything. Hours turned into a day as I read and read…and then I found it. An old legend about the crossroads," she smirked. "I stole out into the night, not knowing anymore than what I had read. I brought a necklace of mine, and cut a small lock of my hair, burying it in the dirt directly in the center of the roads. To my great surprise, she appeared. I told her that I wanted Elias to be safe and my family. I didn't care about myself. When she told me the terms, I did not back away; 5 years and then my soul was hers."

April glanced around, noticing both her mother and aunt were paying very close attention to Ruby's story. There was something in their eyes, maybe it was intrigue but to April it appeared like they had a sense of understanding. They got it; all the pent up hurt, the pain, the ultimatum to your own existence. They all, including herself, knew it all too well.

"I figured 5 years with him was better than nothing. So, what was done was done. He was miraculously cured within a week and I would like to say we lived happily ever after, but we know that never happens for anyone."

"True," Abby nodded with a grin. "Nothing ever goes as planned."

"My mother married us in a ceremony and we moved onto our own land, our own farm. For the first couple years, we were happy…and then he got bored."

Everyone uncomfortably shifted in their respective seats.

"I've never told Sam this, for obvious reason when it all comes out. But, when he got bored, he searched elsewhere. It came in the form of a seventeen year old blonde girl from the village. I found them in my house one day, in my bed, and I--I snapped. I mean, I gave my _soul _for the prick and that is how he repaid me? I--I lost it." She paused her hands tightly gripping her long shirt, her knuckles white. "I set up a curse on them, _both _of them. The girl slowly started to decline in health, no one figuring out why. Of course, I knew there was a hex bag in her satchel. I watched her die slowly, painfully--and then watched my husband pine and grieve for her. So, he had to go. I cursed him as well. Let's just say dying of the Plague would have been a blessing for him. But, before he passed, he found the hex bag…and he crawled to the neighbor's to die, the hex bag in clenched fist. They dragged me away and burnt me alive at the stake as a witch. Next thing I knew, I was in the toasty furnace downstairs."

They all sat in silence, glancing around to random spots on the room or the floor, taking in what Ruby had just revealed. It seemed her transformation into a demon didn't begin when she was in Hell, it didn't begin with the torture of the flames; her change began as a jealous, spited woman. Human.

"Wow, this is cheery pre-prom chat," Gwen cleared her throat.

"Sorry," Ruby said. "You wanted me to spill my guts, so I did."

"No, it's ok," Abby sighed. "It's better to know. After all, now we know why we're all so fucked up."

"Well, not all of us," April smiled slyly. "There is _my _story."

"Oh yeah, because what…eighteen years is enough time to fuck up your life," Gwen joked. "Come on, what goods do you have on our sob stories?"

April closed her eyes, thinking about how she was going to put it all into words. After all, she didn't even understand how she felt about the situation. What the fuck was she going to say about it?

"It all began the night I met him," she started.

"Who, Jesse," Gwen said, sitting a little closer. "You know, if this is going anywhere towards sex, this might be a good time for Abby to leave--"

"It's not," both her and Abby said at the same time, giving each other sideways glances.

"Actually, it was the night I met Jesse, but it's not Jesse that I'm talking about."

"Ooooo, another boy," Gwen sat up on her knees excitedly. "Come on, spill it."

"His name is Wes," April said.

The shattering of glass, followed by the spreading of red nail polish pooling on the floor stopped her story. Her mother stared at her, her eyes wide.

"Excuse me," Abby muttered, her eyes glazed over.

"Mom, you ok," she asked. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah, Ab, what's up," Gwen asked.

"I--I just forgot I have to pick up my dress from the dry cleaners," she ran her non-polish covered hand through her hair. "I just caught myself off guard. Excuse me."

Her mother got up to go change, washing her hands at some point in between, before leaving in her car towards the direction of the town.

"Weird," Gwen said. "But, I'm sure she's alright. So…about this Wes?"

* * *

_'Pick up. Pick up. Pick up, you little asshole.'_

"Abigail, my dear, long time, no--"

"Cut the crap, Wes. Where are you?"

"Around. I told you I was coming to Chicago. I'm running some jobs here. Why?"

"In town, huh," she smirked as she drove erratically. "This isn't the first time you've been in town though, right?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm going to say this once and I am going to make myself very, VERY clear, Wes. You may have helped me when I was at my darkest point, and for that I am grateful…but--"

"But?"

"Stay. Away. From. My. Daughter," she snarled into her cellphone. "I saw into her mind, Wes.

I saw what you did to her, how you left. You will never, I mean NEVER, hurt her again. Just be lucky I found out before my husband did. He'd kill you instantly."

"Fair enough. But, if the court would allow," he chuckled. "If you haven't noticed, I have been staying away from your daughter, thus why she is upset. Would you rather me be there so she wasn't, or to keep my distance?"

"Just keep away from her," she hissed. "That is an order, Wes. Am I being clear?"

"Crystal," he growled over the phone before he hung up.

She snapped the phone shut, trying to concentrate on the road, glancing back at the dress hanging by the back passenger door.

So, she hadn't quite been lying; she did have to run by the cleaners to pick up her dress. She still couldn't believe she let her daughter talk her into buying that particular gown. Actually, it was less of a gown…too short to be considered gown caliber.

_'What have I gotten myself into,' _she mused, shaking her head at her daughter's persistence that she dress sexy.

"Mom, seriously, flaunt the curves while you got em," the teen had winked in the dress shop.

"I'm fine with sexy, but…I don't want to look…unacceptable for a chaperone," she had acknowledged, fixing the strapless top.

"Mom, the guys like MILFs…you'll be fine," April joked.

Abby really hate the term MILF. Made her feel dirty before she even put that black dress on.

Oh well, she promised April could primp her as they were about to finish when she arrived back home.

Besides, she had greater issues concerning her that evening than how she looked. After the revelation that Wes knew Abby, she had developed a sinking pit in her stomach. What had been Wes' motivation for knowing her after he had previously met April? There was obliviously _something _to be learned or gained from knowing both of them…but what? Was he working alone? Was he working with…them? Abby desperately wished she knew who was haunting her night and day, in letters and visions in her sleep. They tormented her everyday, because she knew that once they caught up, the fate that her own family had succumbed to was never far off. It would certainly help if she could cut them off at the pass, perhaps saving them all.

All in good time. All in good time.

She'd keep her eyes, ears and preternatural senses open that night, but as she pulled into the driveway, she focused all her energy on her daughter. It was _her _night after all. April was no longer a little girl playing dress-up in her mommy's old clothes. No, that night, she was going to be like Cinderella going to the ball or a Venetian princess. She was truly a woman.

* * *

"_Mom_, can I look now," she sighed. "It's been _hours_."

"Stop whining, it hasn't been hours," her mother teased. "An hour at the most."

Too long to be sitting in a chair having your mom and aunt poke and prod at your head.

"_Please_," she pleaded, pouting her lips playfully.

"Oh, alright," her mom smiled down at her. She was suddenly whipped around in the chair, forced to face herself in the mirror.

Was that..._her_? It sure looked like the girl she knew, the one who greeted her every morning in the mirror. But this girl was sleeker, more sophisticated...grown up.

April tilted her head from side to side, getting a good look of all the work her relatives had put into her appearance.

She was speechless. They did a damn good job.

"Oh," Gwen smiled at her reflection. "Baby girl, you look.."

"Beautiful," her mom finished, her hand over her mouth, her eyes slightly wet.

"Oh, Mom, don't cry," April smiled at her.

"Yeah, MOM, don't cry," Gwen scolded Abby, hitting her lightly on the shoulder. "If you mess up those eyes I will _kill _you. Don't you know how long it took to get those cat eyes just right?"

Abby mouthed an apologetic sorry to her friend and continued to smiled down reverently at her only daughter.

April had to admit it herself, her Auntie Gwen sure knew what she was doing in terms of hair and makeup. The less obvious transformation, but perhaps the most impressive to her was Abby. Her mom was always stunningly beautiful but at that moment she was truly _radiant_. Her hair flowed loosely down in dark, warm waves, beautifully framing her face and bringing out her dramatic features. Her eyes were dark yet somehow bright, seemingly opposite of her perfect, alabaster skin.

She had to admit, she herself did outstanding as a fashion, personal stylist. Although her mother had been more than hesitant about the dress to say the least, it was absolute perfection on her. Sure, it may have been shorter than what she was used to as her role in life, but it was time for the woman to have fun and flaunt it! Why not? She had most definitely had it. Her momma was one hot tamale. Adding that turquoise necklace on Abby just totally made the outfit. Gorgeous.

Gwen was equally as elegant. Her blonde hair was pulled up in some sort of French twist, her bangs parted off to the side and accentuated her face.. She was elegant in her black gown, her aura reminiscent of some Hollywood bygone era. She knew her aunt was a party girl, but she sure could pull of sophistication.

And, she had to admit, April did a damn good job with both of their makeup.

"Mom, you're not going to cry again are you," April teased.

"When you have a kid of our own someday far, far, _far _in the future, you'll understand," she smiled, wiping away a single glistening tear.

"Can I try on the mask," April asked, gesturing towards the pile of paper on the dresser.

Her mother smiled and turned around, taking the contents out of its package and placing the beautifully adorned black and white handmade mask onto her face. Her vision was obscured while her mom tied the white satin ribbon around her head, fixing the bow attached to the side.

"There," Abby sighed as she concluded the task.

"_Oh_," April said, raising her eyebrow to herself in the mirror. "_Mysterious_. Me likey."

"You are one weird girl," Gwen chuckled, squatting down next to her niece. "I've taught you well."

April turned to see her mother putting her own mask in her purse and heading for the door.

"Hey," Gwen called to her, "Aren't you staying for pictures."

Abby smiled and shook her head no, stating that chaperones were required to attend a mandatory meeting before the dance to go over official dance protocol.

"I didn't find out until I said I was coming," she admitted. "But baby, you do look so, _so _beautiful." She rushed forward to wrap her arms around April, who was still seated in the chair. "You're gorgeous. I'll have Gwen and your Dad take photos for me. I can tell you this much, your Daddy is gonna have a hard time tonight, hun. Be nice to him, ok?"

April rolled her eyes and nodded, truthfully knowing that her dad was indeed going to go through a slew of emotions that evening. Hell, she even found herself fighting off the waves. She couldn't even imagine how it would be before her own wedding one day. That was going to be a rough one.

Her mom waved goodbye and left the room, leaving only April and Gwen in the room.

"No worries, kid," Gwen shrugged, helping her out of the chair and straightening out her tea-length dress. "We'll both see her soon at the dance."

"I still can't believe you're going," April giggled, adjusting her top, making sure everything was staying where it was supposed to.

"Lenore wants me there to act as…security. Can't be too careful after what happened to…you know."

Yep, she knew; Becky.

"Hey, anyone home?"

"I'm upstairs, Daddy! I'll be right down."

Gwen silently jumped up and down, grabbing the camera from the black dresser on the left and starting snapping away.

"Dude, you _suck _at air hockey," she could hear Jamie taunting from downstairs.

"Yeah well…you're short," her dad retorted.

Ha! Nice one.

"Shut up, Dad," Jaime sniped back.

"Any day, April. I'm not getting any younger," her dad yelled back.

"Alright!"

She took in a deep, nervous breathe and walked out her bedroom, quietly descending the stairs into the foyer.

* * *

Abby pulled the car into the bar's parking lot, knowing full well of how she would look to the patrons in what she was dressed in. Option one was a hooker. Option two was a girl trying to get illegally loaded before her prom.

It should be good times.

She entered and immediately found her man sitting five seats down the bar, right where he said he'd be.

Her eyes met his and he walked to the back of the bar.

She followed, making sure no one else was aware of an actual meeting occurring.

"Thank you for seeing me at such short notice," she whispered as they sat at a pub table in the farthest corner.

"Anything for you, Ab," he smiled. "What's got you so spooked?"

"Declan, have you ever worked with a man named Wes at the nest?"

"Wes…Wes…"

"Or a Wesley? Anyone by that name," she pushed.

"Not that I can recall…at least not recently. Why?"

"Are you positive, Dec? This is a matter of extreme importance."

"Abigail, come on. You and I both know that there are only 4 people," he said with his brogue, holding up four fingers for emphasis, pointing to each one as he named the names of the people who had authority enough to put people on cases. "There's Lenore, you, Gwen and, since you've been out, me. Gwen or Lenore ever heard of 'em?"

"Gwen hasn't. I haven't been in touch with Lenore in a while. We've kinda been on the outs as of late."

"I heard about Dylan. I'm sorry about that," the vampire sympathized.

Abby didn't have time for that.

"So what is it about this Wes that is so concerning to you that you are about to ditch your daughter's prom to go after him," he inquired with enthusiasm.

"Oh no, I'm not ditching her prom. If anything, I need to get there…now," she said grabbing her purse and hurriedly leaving her chair.

"Wait," Declan stopped her, standing in her way. Sure, she was well-built, but Declan was stronger. He was older than herself by about fifty years. He was taller than her by about a foot and few inches, give or take. His light brown eyes persuaded with her to halt and talk about why she was rushing to get away. "Is this something the nest should be concerned with, this Wes?"

"Well, since he's been impersonating a nest officer, I'd say so," she said, her hands on her hips. "He had a band on his wrist, Dec. It was official. So, either he stole it or--"

"Someone gave it to him," he finished her sentence.

"We may have a rat in our midst, my friend. Call Lenore, we're gonna need a few more people at this dance. But, we need _absolute _discretion. These kids can't know anything is going on."

"Why are we calling in the cavalry for one vampire gone bad? Come on, Abby, this seems a little extreme, even for you," he chuckled.

She pulled him close enough so he could see the fear in her eyes. Declan pulled down his shield and allowed Abby to tell him mentally what had been going on, from the letters onward. By the time she was done, Declan was practically dragging her to the exit, ready to attend as well.

Good, at least she wouldn't be alone if something were to happen. No, that wasn't right. In her heart of hearts, she knew something was going to happen. If only she knew what it was.


	29. Ballroom Blitz

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **05/14/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

_Wow._ That's all he could muster. Wow…and that he was getting old. _Really_ old. Old, and yet, he was going to be a father for the first time. How in the hell was he going to get through it all?

Those were the hodgepodge of barely coherent emotions going through his mind as his niece made her way down the stairs for her own prom.

She smiled down at the family, taking her time because of her precarious shoes. How she planned to dance in them that evening, he had no clue. Frankly, women surprised him daily. After all the years he'd spent with them, the supernatural seemed more predictable than women on a regular basis and sometimes equally as terrifying.

Sam glanced over at his brother, trying to read his face. The good thing was, Dean was smiling. Bad news was, it was _that_ smile; the one Sam had seen over and over when his brother was trying to come to terms with his crossroads deal, when he had tried his best to enjoy what life he had left.

The elder Winchester shifted on his feet, putting weight on the other now and shoving his hands in his denim pockets.

Poor Dean. Sam knew he himself was feeling only a miniscule percentage of what Dean could have been suffering at that moment as April descended each poignant stair.

First, there was how much she resembled Abby at that moment. The dark hair, that smile, her grace as she moved; they were all classic of the vampire-turned-mother. Couple that with Dean's eyes and his mischievous smirk, and that girl--no, _woman_--caressing the banister as she came down, meant trouble. That was pretty much a given with parents like hers.

It was the woman part that was really getting to Sam. They all knew it was coming eventually…but it happened too soon. He still couldn't get over the guilt that it was his fault. No one else was to blame for the fact that she was five years older than what she should be. Hell, part of Sam could remember her coming down the stairs for the first time, her very first dance, when she was twelve or thirteen. That should have been t_hat_ night, her _first_ dance, not prom. It was just too soon. It happened all too quickly.

He was a mess which made him wonder if he'd be able to get through his own kid's childhood in one piece. Fuck, he couldn't even comprehend how in the blue hell Dean was managing to hold it together.

"So...what do y'all think," April asked as she stepped down to the hallway. She spun around, giving the 360 of her whole ensemble. She was a heavenly vision in layers of white; as beautiful and majestic as a gentle, Christmas Eve snowfall.

"You look pretty, sis," Jaime answered with a smile, approaching his big sister, arms opened for a warm hug.

"Ah, AH, Jamie, JAMIE," Gwen spoke, hustling over to catch the boy before he managed to get his arms on his sister. "White, hun. Let's go get you cleaned up and _then_ you can hug your sis. By the way, what _are_ you covered in?"

"Dad let me go paintball with Uncle Sammy and Uncle Cas," Jamie revealed, their voices getting farther away as they entered the kitchen near the rear of the house. Sam knew Gwen was going to get all the details of the game from Jamie as to how Cas really was. An ex-angel with a paintball gun did turn out to be an amusing display.

Dean let out a sigh and took a deliberate step forward, taking his hands out of his pockets and taking one of April's hands in his own. At first, he just played with her hands, his fingers each tapping one of her own anxiously, his eyes fixated upon her hand in his own. April always had a thing about holding hands when she was a kid. Before she crossed a street or just to cheer you up, she'd grab onto your hand, holding so tight to the point that you didn't think she'd ever let it go.

"You look beautiful," Dean said, his eyes finally venturing up to her own.

April let out the breathe she had been holding in, obviously wondering if her dad was upset with something. Now knowing that everything was ok, she pulled back and spun again.

"You did good, kid. I'm not going to have to lock you up tonight," Dean smirked.

"Thanks, Daddy," she smiled, pulling her dad in for a hug. "I was going for young sophistication. A little sass with alotta class."

"Nice," Sam smiled at his niece.

April began to move to get a hug from her uncle before she was abruptly stopped by Gwen.

"NO, hold on missy, photos with Daddy first. Your mom will _kill_ me if I don't get these. Now smile."

"You know how I hate photos," Dean said between gritted teeth as he lightly smiled.

"Shove it, Winchester. Just shut up and smile. You'll thank me for these later," Gwen remarked as she snapped away with her high-end digital camera.

"Where's Abby," Sam inquired, taking a look around and was shocked that she wasn't around for the event. Didn't she want to see her daughter dressed up for her dance?

"Yeah, where is the wife," Dean asked between photos.

Gwen explained why Abby had left as she continued snap away.

"Can I hug my gorgeous niece now," Sam asked, opening his arms.

April smiled and threw herself at her uncle, giving him a bear hug that he somehow felt he didn't deserve.

To his surprise, she kissed his cheek and whispered that he didn't have to be so sad. It was a small comfort to him, and did seem to quell whatever inner turmoil he was experiencing.

"Say cheese," Gwen said, the camera in their face before either could blink.

"And, now I'm blind," April chuckled before releasing Sam and moving over to take some photos with her younger brother. She squeezed him tight, both of them looking older and older by the minute and yet he could still picture them as little toddlers.

They posed together, sister and brother, and Sam couldn't help but muse that he and Dean didn't have a lot of photos together when they were little. Their Dad didn't seem interested in it. In fact, the only photos of them besides mug-shots were the ones they had found in their old house in Lawrence. Perhaps those were both reasons why they really didn't like having their pictures taken.

Suddenly, a camera was pushed into his hands and Gwen giddily jumped up and down in her black dress.

"Now, it's time for OUR photos," she pouted before they both posed like models, followed by more poses and then silly faces. "So, where's my date," Gwen asked looking around for Cas.

"Um...getting cleaned up at home," Dean laughed. "Jamie got him GOOD. He's covered head to toe in pink paintballs. It was awesome."

Gwen huffed, scolding them all for deciding to do something so messy on an important day.

"I'll remember that on my wedding day," she scoffed, looking around for her purse.

"You and Cas gettin' hitched," Dean inquired with a smirk. "Did he finally get the balls to ask you?"

"What like _you_ did," she rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Deano, you are the last person to talk about bad timing and proposals. But, while we're on the subject..._has_ he been talking about it with you guys?" She tilted her head down and looked up at the brother's sheepishly.

"I'm not sayin' anything," Dean laughed, putting his hands up defensibly. "If I say anything, I'll just get myself in trouble. Maybe you should talk with your man."

"Maybe _you_ should go leave me alone and go find your wife," she raised her eyebrow.

Dean fake laughed and told her that there was no way he was gonna go to a prom. Daughter going or not, he wouldn't be caught dead there.

"No way, the farthest I made it to my own prom was the backseat of the Impala," he smirked.

"Yeah, that's as far as my date got too, Dean," Sam added. "Remember?"

"Yeah, I do...vividly. Sorry about that by the way," Dean chuckled.

"Well, I'm going to catch up with Cas and Abby. I'm working surveillance today...shit...oops," she said, trying to run out of the room, only to be caught by Sam.

"Surveillance," Sam asked. "The nest is involved in something there?"

"Well...not the nest _exactly_. Abby really isn't part of the nest right now. She asked me and a couple allies to keep an eye on the dance. She's having a bad feeling about it since the whole Becky incident."

"Why wouldn't she tell me that," Dean said with a defensive tone in his voice, crossing his arms.

"Maybe because you would wanna get your hands dirty and run the show? I don't know, Dean. I was told details and told not to divulge them and once again...I fucked up," she smirked. "Oopsie. If you want to help, go to the frickin' dance."

Dean shook his head no and was adamant that he wasn't going, no way, no how. Sam wondered how long he was going to put up that tough guy front. If Ab was there, and possibly in danger, Dean would be there as soon as everyone left.

He nudged Dean in the arm and gestured to going to the other room.

"Are you going, Dean," he asked his brother. "I think I might head out there. Maybe me, you and Cas can go together, give the girls some back up?"

"Nah," he shrugged it off. "If Ab doesn't care enough to tell us that she's really going to keep an eye on it, than she doesn't want us there."

"Yeah, and when has that stopped you before," Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Sammy, just drop it," he said with a wary tone.

"Geesh, sorry I asked," Sam tisked at his brother, turning to leave.

Sam was about to walk out of the room when Dean groaned and spoke again.

"Sammy, man, come on, don't act like that. Look, I know you and Cas are both gonna go no matter what, but, there's a reason I might wanna hang back."

"And that is?"

"I don't know, someone has to keep an eye on the house. That, and the dreams I've been having the last few days are really freaking me out."

The mentions of dreams caught Sam's attention. Maybe it was because of his own prophetic dreams in the past, or perhaps it was because Abby had not had a decent night's sleep in months; either way, it could be important. Hell, it could all be connected.

Dean kept his voice low as he let Sam in on the repeating episode in his head, making sure the girls in the hall couldn't hear them.

His dreams mostly consisted of one thing: a naked Abby. Too much info for Sam.

"This has a point to it," Dean said. "So, I'm in the woods and she shows up completely bare ass naked." He stops to smirk. "Which is awesome, cause usually then I wake up and wake her up good to go…"

"Dean. Too much sharing," Sam cleared his throat all the while shaking his head at the unpleasant visual that had popped up in his head.

"Whatever. It's nice to get some kicks in the middle of the night," he pointed at his brother. "Guess you wouldn't' understand, you know, since you're the woman."

"DEAN. Back on track. Dream?"

"Right, so she shows up naked…and at first I'm like, alright. But then," he paused, his smile fading. "I'm not happy anymore. There's something different about her."

"Like?"

"All of a sudden I don't feel comfortable around her, and I'm lookin' around for a weapon. I can't find one, then she zips around somewhere that I can't see…but I can _hear_ her. And…she's laughin' at me. It's not like her normal laugh, you know when she sometimes snorts when she gets too excited. Fuck no, it's like one of those creepy ass laughs from a horror movie. I'm lookin' and lookin' for something to protect myself, even though I keep sayin' 'it's Abby, she won't hurt me.' Then, I just hear her behind me, I spin around and then she's in front of me. I feel her fingers break my shoulder like it's a fuckin' toothpick then feel her tear into my throat…then, snap, I wake up. Needless to say, I haven't been going for any midnight delight after those," Dean stops, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I don't know, man, but I haven't slept right in a few days."

"You think there could be something behind them, some message," Sam asked, his brows knitted.

"I don't know, Sammy. Maybe that last attack on Becky and Dylan's reaction is starting to really get to me."

Ding. Dong.

"Date's here," Sam turned towards the door.

"Awesome. Let the inquisition begin," Dean smiled as he made his way to the front door, rubbing his hands devilishly together, obviously plotting.

That boy had no idea what he was getting into.

* * *

What was wrong with her? She could hardly meet his eyes...she was feeling…feeling…_shy_? Really? When had _she_ ever been _shy_? April Winchester had never been a demure girl since the moment she was born! Yet now...now she was feeling bashful, complacent...and on her _prom_ night. What a night to grow a sense of propriety. Then again, a little bumpin' and grindin' on the dance floor would bring her right back to normal. Or would it?

Besides, it's hard to not act like an elegant, refined princess when you were dressed to the nines and on the arm of a gentleman, which is what Jesse had become.

The instant that door opened and he was standing there in his black and white tux with all the elegance of a Southern man of refinement, she felt like a giddy little girl.

"April," he breathily sighed with his apparent drawl. He graciously took her hand in his, planting a small kiss on the back, causing sparks to sizzle across her chilled skin. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Why thank you kind, sir," she said in her poor excuse for a southern accent, causing him to giggle.

"Good effort," he smiled back, never releasing her hand from his own.

"Oh," he said, his eyebrows raised before he began anxiously searching the inside of his coat pocket. When he was finished, he pulled out his prize; a small clear box with flowers in it. "I brought this for you."

Inside the clear box was a simple, yet somehow elaborate, corsage. Two ivory roses were flanked by small beaded pearls, topped off with two elegant, shimmering black feathers.

"I didn't know what colors to get you," he explained timidly. "All I knew was that it was a black and white event and--"

She hadn't realized that she had been quiet for so long, staring at the wonderful gift in the box.

"It's _perfect_, Jesse," she smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"May I put it on you," he asked, holding up her hand.

"You may," she laughed, curtseying a little.

Jesse smiled and took her hand, gently placing the delicate arrangement on her wrist.

"Say cheese!"

A flash blinded the moment.

"Gwen…please. Can I at least let the retinas readjust slightly, _geesh_," she laughed, looking down at her wrist.

"Come on and get together, I need a photo of you two for your momma. She's going to be so sad she missed this," her aunt said, snapping away.

"Abby isn't here," Jesse questioned.

"She's chaperoning," April said with illustrative air quotes. "Between you and me, I just think she wants to keep an eye on me."

"I'm not entirely sure that's the only reason, " Jesse rebuked.

Someone clearing their throat, _loudly_, interrupted the conversation.

"So _you're_ the guy takin' my daughter to the prom, huh," Dean said standing next to Sam, his arms crossed protectively across his chest.

"Dad, he's cool," Jamie approached him, putting a hand on his arm. "He seems like a good guy." He patted his dad's forearm before declaring that he was going to play some video games in the family room.

The room was silent until April snorted from withholding her laughter. That started a tsunami of laughter.

"Well, I'm Dean, April's Dad," her father formerly introduced himself.

"I'm glad I could formerly make your acquaintance, Mr. Winchester," Jesse said, taking his hand firmly for a hand shake.

All April could think of was that he remembered his strength and wouldn't rip it off.

"Please, call me Dean. I don't think there ever was a Mr. Winchester in our fam. Seems too damn formal for us."

Jesse smiled and April was surprised that the boy and her father were just chatting together.

"Well, you are going to take good care of her tonight, right," Dean asked, Jesse about to speak in response. Before he could, Dean interrupted. "Let me give you a list of what taking good care of her really means to me: no drinking, no smoking, no illicit or prescription drugs, no fighting, no…you know, oh…and no," he stepped forward to whisper, "Vampire stuff. Got it?"

"_Dad_," April said, mortified that he would bring that up but caught more by surprise that he could see Jesse's true nature.

Instead of feeling out of place, Jesse seemed more relieved that he didn't have to pretend to be too human.

"I promise that we will be on our best behavior and I'll get your daughter home safely," he smiled. "Soldier's honor, sir."

"Good," Dean smirked. "Because you know if she's late--"

"You've got a stake with my name on it," Jesse smirked.

Dean chuckled and turned to Sam.

"I like this kid," he smiled to Sam before turning back to his daughter. "Give me a hug, A.C."

April smiled, her heels clacking as she jumped into her father's arms.

"I love you," she whispered, which made him squeeze a little harder.

"Love you more, hun. Stay safe, ok? I do trust you, you know," he said.

"I know you do. And I will, Daddy, I promise. I've got my switchblade wedged in my garter," she winked.

"That's my girl." Dean pulled away and kissed the top of her head.

April turned around to see Jesse holding out her jacket for her. She thanked him for being a gentleman as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her cape-like jacket, making sure to not smash her corsage.

"You showing up tonight, Dad," she asked, shuffling towards the door. "I'm sure Mom would like you there."

"Nah, she's good. Just go have fun, babe."

"If you say so," April shrugged, taking Jesse's arm. "Bye!"

She heard Gwen squeal behind her and yell something about downloading the photos immediately. Oh, her aunt was crazy.

"April," Jesse said suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Should we get going," he smiled, his hand on the open door, his other out towards her.

"Oh, yeah…sorry. Mind is wandering tonight I guess. It's sort of all dreamy," she smiled, taking her suitor's hand and getting settled in the car.

"I know," he smiled, blurring around to the side of the car and taking his seat into the driver's seat. "I'm kinda feeling like that too. Last formal dance I took a lady too was a long time ago."

"Does this bring up bad memories," April inquired. "I mean, did you take someone you really liked."

"Eh," he shrugged. "She was alright, but nothing in comparison to you."

She turned towards the window, suddenly sheepish in his presence. Yep, she was definitely not being the typical April Winchester

* * *

"Ouch, goddamn it," Dylan swore, rubbing the impact wound on his arm.

"Well then pay attention! What's up with you tonight," she asked steadily, not breathless at all considering they had been going at it for about an hour and a half.

He kept one hand on his opposite arm and slumped down the mat-covered wall. His body was feeling bruised and battered from the training session.

Dylan could feel agitation radiating off her as she huffed across the opposite end of the room, only to appear at his side a millisecond later.

"Here." A hand was thrust out in front of him, a water bottle in its grasp.

He thanked her, swiping it from her hand and taking a cool drink. The mat underweight shifted as she too slid down the wall, taking a seat beside him.

"Are you alright, Dylan," she sighed. "You're usually so full of energy when we spar and your combat sense was way off; what's wrong?"

Dylan gulped down and shrugged, not wanting to answer.

"You're lying to me," she said matter-of-factly. "It's pretty naive of you to try to pass off that you're ok to a psychic."

"What, you too," he groaned, turning to look at her. "Isn't anybody in this place normal?"

She stared at him purposefully before turning away in disgust.

"A _girl_? You're losing focus over that brown hair, blue eyed _girl_ in your mind? A puny, weak _human_ girl?," she stood up, crossing her arms across her chest, tapping her foot. "For Christ's sake, humans _die_, Dylan. They're meant to. Every moment of everyday…"

"Stop it," he growled, his blood boiling with every feeling coming from her body. She was mocking him, every fiber of her being was not full of pity but of annoyance. She resented his want for a human. It was considered to be weakness by her. "Stop. It."

"_You're_ the one making a mockery of our species! I say it's done, move on...and get over it," she said, as he stood up to face her, toe-to-toe. He stared at the thin, athletic girl before him. She glared right back at him, her brown eyes scowling, her lips filled with scorn. She brushed back a sweaty piece dark brown hair from the side of her face with a pale olive skinned hand. Any normal person would look at her at think they could manhandle her…little did they know...

"You done _pouting_, Dylan? We've got more to do practice before we go after these guys…"

"No, I'm not done," he voiced, walking towards her. She stood her ground not backing down by his approach. Fine, if that was the way it was going to be. He had a point to make. The last weeks and months had been excruciatingly hard on him. The day they buried Becky, a huge part of himself went into the casket. He wasn't the same Dylan he was before that day. Seeing her die, being the cause of her actual demise was bad enough, but then _knowing_, seeing her laying there in a box being placed in the ground…it was over. Everything was over.

Then he was forced into a halfway house for his crimes, learning to be a productive member of vampire society. How ironic. He had to admit, he was doing ok, keeping busy with his mandatory studies and combat training. It was the staying busy occupied part that was the only thing keeping him sane. Between being away from his family and Becky's passing, he was about to lose his fucking mind.

"Listen, Dylan, get yourself together," she scolded. "Life sucks, but you need to get over it." With her arms crossed tightly over her chest, she paced to the other side of the room. However, he noticed that with every step she took, her tension was slowly relinquishing. "Look," she turned to him, her hand on her head. "I'm sorry that you're missing out on your prom with her, ok? I--I really wouldn't wish this on anyone."

"It's not just prom," he stammered. "I'm missing out on my life. She was….it."

She bit her lower lip, refusing to meet his eye. His senses were picking up some feeling from her but she was hiding it. Part of her was really…sad? Why was she acting so contradictory to her emotions?

"Look, I'm sorry I used my oculomancy on you. In return, could you not use your empathic skills on me?"

Her eyes lifted up to his own and she smiled a little.

Dylan nodded to her, agreeing to her terms, before wiping his face and standing up again.

"I'll give you a few minutes…but we do need to work some more tonight."

Swiftly she turned around to leave and he felt the sudden urge to be with her; to be with anyone, his own emotions of the recent tragic events weighing on his mind.

"Wait," he said, swooping at vampire speed to block her path. "Stay. Please. I'm--I'm ready to work."

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, obviously wondering if his intention was really to begin again.

"Are you sure, Dyl?"

"Yes. I can't sit in this…I need to do something. If training to help people is the solution, then let's do it."

"Good," she smirked. "I'm ready when you are."

* * *

Abby stood guard by a side wall of the banquet hall, trying her best not act or appear tense. After all, her only job was to watch after over a hundred seventeen year olds, right? What else could possibly be worse than that?

She had seen April walk in with her date, a vision in white. The pair of them appeared with the poise of royalty, something rarely seen in someone their age. Well, at least at April's age. Jesse was well over one hundred and forty years old. She couldn't contain a smile as they waltzed in. Jesse gave her a slight nod, grabbing onto to April a little more tightly, a silent gesture to let her know her daughter was in good hands. April had just smiled and waved erratically at her. Abby had to chuckle at her daughter's excitement.

For an hour or so, she had watched the kids dance to the music...well, if you could call it dancing. Sometimes she wondered if they were at a dance or working at a strip club…but she was happy to report that her daughter was keeping it clean. Very clean. Dean would have been proud to witness his only daughter when she did the sprinkler, causing Jesse to fall over in hysterics.

On occasion throughout the night, Abby would catch Gwen's eye or Donovon's in non-verbal communication. From what all three of them could get, nothing was out of place. Everything was seemingly perfect.

She swayed softly to the music, her arms across her chest, keeping watch over the mass of young adults in front of her. That was until there was a quick, unexpected tap on her shoulder.

With a quick spin, she faced her attacker.

"Hey."

"_Dean_," she gasped. "Jesus, you scared me!" She lightly slapped his arm, a knee-jerk reaction from him scaring her.

"Boy, you're jumpy," he smirked. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, fine," she lied. "What…what are you doing here?"

Abby finally looked him over to find that, although he hadn't changed out of his jeans, he had managed to toss on a nice, _ironed_ dress shirt, slightly open to reveal a small amount of t-shirt underneath. He looked adorable.

"You dressed up," she laughed.

"Yeah, well…I didn't want to look like a hobo breakin' into the prom."

"You're adorable, Dean," Abby smiled tossing her arms around her husband's neck. He squeezed her to him. "So, what's the occasion?"

"Worried about you," he admitted, swaying with her to the music. "Thought you might be runnin' an operation without me."

Her eyes snapped to his. Sly dog had figured it out…probably from an oops courtesy of one little blonde across the way. She turned towards the snitch, who was currently in the arms of Cas.

_'Sorry,' _she mouthed.

_'I'll get you back later, missy, just you wait' _Abby sent telepathically. And, she meant it. She'd find something to do to her, she was sure of that.

"So," Dean said, kissing her briefly. "Mind letting me in on this one? I'm kinda out of practice."

"There's no case here, Dean. I'm just…on edge I guess. Becky's death just kinda startled me I guess. I figured better safe than sorry, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But hun, don't shut me out of these things. I mean, I'm not green when it comes to this stuff. I just wish you'd put your pride aside and let me help you. Help me, help you," he smirked.

Ha. But, what he didn't understand was it just wasn't about being prideful; it was about keeping as much of her family safe; apart if there was an attack would be more beneficial than together. Dean would understand that if she explained. Instead, she nodded and put her head against his chest.

She listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as she watched the kids dance to the same slow song. They swayed and laughed in a sea of black and white, their identities shrouded by the masks they wore. It was very reminiscent of something she'd seen before. Wait…had she seen it before? Was it in her mind, in her dreams? Or…

_Crash._

A loud boom sounded through the hall, echoing across the space.

Gwen's eyes shifted momentarily away from Cas as she whispered a warning. Abby saw her and nodded causing Gwen to get the message to get to April.

Jesse seemed to sense something as well, pulling April away and somewhat behind him. Good, at least he was on their side.

Abby saw Donovan move in the distance, going to get a better look at the perimeter and what the rousing sound could have been.

"I"m going to meet up with Sam outside, see if he knows what's going on. Keep a look out and stay here," Dean whispered, giving her a kiss on the forehead. He let go of her, setting out to meet up with Cas and Gwen.

She stayed still, for once heeding Dean's advice. Keeping her eyes on the group of students in front of her, she took in the scene. The DJ was telling the kids to remain calm and, of course, they were in a huddle, trying to figure out what was possibly going on. The gossip machine about the situation had it's engine running full steam ahead.

Everything seemed to be normal besides the ruckus that had just previously ensued. That is…until she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye, dressed in a very dark cloak.

Abby's skinned crawled.

_'Oh god,'_ she thought to herself in a mental whisper, her body registering the scene in slow motion.

The figure almost instantaneously skirted by her, gently pulling on her own dress as it floated by. It wanted Abby to follow. She knew that even before the elusive figure gestured. Ignoring Dean's warning to stay put, she followed.

She slipped unnoticed behind a fake partition, done up in an elegant black and white, mardi gras style pattern. The underside of it was not as cheery as the front. Abby slid between the nailed , bare plywood wall and the wallpapered side of the hall's room itself, navigating the tricky amount of lumber supports guarding the handmade structure.

Through the darkness, she followed, knowing full well that something was waiting at the end although she could only venture a guess as to what it was. The mystery in an of itself, and the anxiety that was boiling up, was eating away at her stomach.

There it was at the end, standing, facing her, their face shrouded in the darkness of the cloak.

Abby could feel the tension build in her body, her hands clenching and unclenching as she moved ever closer.

"Abby, how nice to see you…and I'm glad you got my message," her voice sounded across the expanse.

"Who are you," Abby finally managed to squeak out.

The woman stepped forward and chuckled, moving her hands to slide back the hood distorting her face. The warm, spun blonde hair tumbled from underneath.

Abby couldn't believe her eyes, feeling them go wide with shock.

"You?! It's been you," she hissed.

"Surprised aren't you," the woman chuckled. "Oh, won't you call me by my first name. It's not like we're well acquainted. I warned you that I'd get you and your husband back, Abigail. I wasn't lying. I always keep my word."

"_Hannah._"

"Shucks, you remembered," she wildly smiled, batting her eyes.

"What do you want," Abby seethed, her own heartbeat thrumming wildly in her ears.

"Oh, it's not what I want. It's what _she_ wants. I'm not working on my own, you know; I do have a boss. I didn't make my crossroads deal on my own."

"Who's the demon?"

"Nope, not answering," she smiled, making a gesture like she'd zipped her lips. "We have to leave some mystery for you."

Abby stood in front of the blonde, shell-shocked at the discovery. How could Hannah be behind the letters? She barely knew her ass from a hole in the ground. How could she have penned those letters in the various languages, some of them dead to the modern world?

"Why are you doing this," Abby hissed. "What do you want?"

"What they wanted your mother to do, Abigail. It's time to take your place," she smirked.

Abby hissed and jumped forward at Hannah pinning the petite woman against the wall. She was surprised to find that not only was the young woman not scared by the attack, but she was laughing.

"Hey, Abby, do me a favor and peek out that hole in the partition over there. Tell me what you see," she chuckled.

Without removing her hand from the girl, she pushed herself against the wall, her eye peering over the crowd. She didn't get what was some amusing or impressive.

"Shields down," Hannah whispered into her cloak.

There was a sudden shift in the room, a new feel to the occasion. It was no longer a hall full of young students enjoying their time and company. No. It was now fraught with danger.

Vampires were about, speaking with young human dates and generally mingling around the room. Some were posing as chaperones, some as waiters and waitresses. Either way, had fit in the scene without her knowing, apparently using cloaking skills that were far beyond her own skills.

Her eyes searched until she found her mark; Gwen. From the change in expression, she also knew something was amiss. Abby only hoped she'd realize what it was and get their family and friends to safety.

"They're everywhere, Ab-by," Hannah mocked. "Don't try anything stupid. I'm wired in to them and can warn them. One word from me and….all those kids are dead. Don't worry, we'll take our time but make it look like an accident."

Abby leaned her head against the wall in defeat, knowing full-well that Hannah now held all the cards. It was now at least 50 well trained, intelligent vampires against there group of seven at best.

"Ok. I'll cooperate."

* * *

April felt a change in the air.

"Hey, are you cold," Jesse asked as they swayed. "You're shivering."

"No. No, I'm fine. It just….doesn't it feel _weird_ in here?"

"What do you mean," Jesse asked.

"I don't know," she said, trying to find a way to describe her foreboding. "It feels…heavy. Like the air is thick and hard to breathe?"

It seemed that Jesse started to feel the same thing. His body became taut against her own, his arms grasping her own more tightly. His eyes were focused on something behind her, and they were shifting into angry slits.

April pivoted on her feet to flip hers and Jesse's directions but her partner remained steadfast, not letting her feet go to far across the floor. She tried again, this time moving the other way only to be shot down in her attempts once again. Was he purposely trying to stop her from turning? What was in that direction? Well, he didn't have control over her head. Might as well try. She gave Jesse a playful, laughing smile and turned her head swiftly to look behind her.

Her smile immediately faded.

She would have recognized his dark head anywhere. Just like in her dreams, he was there, a blonde woman in his arms, the darkness of his eyes glinting in the shining Italian lights of the room.

_'Wes.'_

His eyes were just as she remembered from the times before; dark, deep fathoms, and she could feel herself being sucked into the abyss. Only, the eyes staring at her from across the room didn't have the playful mocking feel per the usual. He was tense, his face trying to say something that his words could not across the distance.

_'Careful,'_ she warned herself, the arms around her reminding her that she was with someone safe, someone who wouldn't abandon her in any case. Someone who loved her.

Hadn't Wes been the one who had walked away without a real reason? Hadn't he been the one who took off?

_'Well, isn't _Jesse_ guilty of the same thing,' _she pondered. Jesse, too, had left for 'her own good.'

_'But, _he_ came back,'_ she argued with herself, _'He came back and he apologized after he realized that what he did was _wrong_. If Wes really cared about her and truly lov---if he wanted to be with her as a friend or otherwise, he could have at least _tried_. There, she said it. He didn't even fucking _try_.'_

_  
'Why are you so mad at him? He wasn't your boyfriend or anything...he apparently didn't think you were anything to him. Why are you so--so hurt?'_

That was the million dollar question; why was she so caught up on _him_? Couldn't she just be happy with what she had at her side for that instant? She was with a boy who adored her, worshiped the ground she walked on, and she would venture a guess that he'd protect her with his own life. Apparently, she was a glutton for punishment.

"Don't move," Jesse instructed, his grasp on her shoulder harder than before.

She stayed at his side, wondering what he would possibly want to say to her? Why did he even bother to show up?

He gulped down, his inhales were becoming irregular as if he were struggling with each breathe. His date clung to his side, flashing April a triumphant smile playing on her lips. She stifled a growl that was threatening to escape. What was her problem?

That's when she noticed Wes moving closer, much to the chagrin of his beautiful blonde partner. The mysterious girl pulled him back, telling him with her eyes that his place with her. He quickly shrugged her off, leaving her beyond him.

"I'm warning you, Wes-ley," the girl drawled in a bright, musical voice. "They won't like this."

"Doesn't matter anymore...shouldn't have mattered to begin with," he muttered as he twisted away from her in disgust, not taking his gaze from April. He moved towards them with purpose, not even looking back as his partner protested.

"Wesley....Wesley! You come back here," she shouted, stomping her foot, her cries becoming more frantic by the minute.

As soon as Wes was within ear shot, Jesse let out a menacing, defensive growl. If that boy was trying to protect her, he was showing he was all business.

"You said you would stay away, Wes. You gave me your word. Why are you here," he spat at him, his body shaking.

"Look, Jesse, this is not about you...this is about her," he said, his eyes finding his way around his previous best friend to the girl behind him. "April, you're in danger. You HAVE to get out of here immediately."

"What," Jesse questioned, pulling Wes forward by the collar.

"_They're_ everywhere," Wes frantically whispered, causing his friend to loosen his grasp. "Don't you get it, Jess…they're HERE. Right now. Get. Her. Out. Of. Here."

"Hi Jesse," the blonde called softly across the way. "Haven't seen you in a while!"

Jesse's body froze stiff straight at her cheerful, melodic voice. April eyed the mysterious girl across the ballroom and discovered her smiling at Jesse in an odd way. It was a combination of the familiar and yet somehow maniacal. It shook her to the core and she was surprised to find herself grasping for Jesse's hand. Whoever that chick was, she sure knew how to make someone feel uncomfortable.

"Jesse," April said as she shook him slightly, snapping his attention from the young honey blonde to herself. "What's wrong?"

"He's right," he spoke with conviction, "we have to get out of here….now."

She was snagged by the hand and practically dragged out of the room.

"Wait! Shouldn't we get Gwen and --"

"They'll follow," Jesse answered sharply. "We don't have time. We need to get you out now."

Her hand was tugged towards the nearest exit, Jesse clearly on a path to get them both out. Her own mind and thoughts were on the situation and the innocent people being left behind…and her family. Abby was still in the building somewhere, perhaps in danger. What about Gwen…and Cas…and Wes.

April's mind was suddenly pulled, the gravity of Wes' mind calling to her, forcing her to meet eyes with him once again. As she turned around to look at his face, her heart ripped in two. He was looking relieved that she was getting out of danger, and yet, there was something else just below the surface. From the glaze in his eyes and his irregular breathe, there was something else just threatening to boil over if he'd only let it.

"Go, April," Wes sharply directed, as if he had read her mind.

She stopped in her path, forcing Jesse to halt in his rescue.

"April, _please_," Jesse pleaded all the while tugging on her arm.

"_Go_, April," Wes repeated, his voice resonating a deep sadness, one that she couldn't believe he'd even have the ability to feel. For some reason, April was chilled, feeling the odd sensation as if those would be the very last words that he would ever speak to her…and he knew it. It was his goodbye, perhaps his penance for staying away. He was warning her of something terrible and trying to save her life.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me what's going on. Maybe I could help?"

Wesley shook his head harder refusing to meet her eyes.

"Go. NOW," he warned again.

"NO," she said, standing her ground with her hands on her hips. "You've warned and rescued me once before. Let me help you this time. I can handle myself, Wes. What's wrong?"

He rushed forward towards her and, strangely, took her in his arms.

"April. you idiot, there's no time left!"

He gripped onto her tightly, clinging to her in desperation.

"_Please_ go," he whispered into her ear. "_PLEASE_. I can't let this happen. You have to go now."

April held onto him tighter, squeezing herself to him in rebuttal. If he came all the way to the dance to find her, despite his leaving before, he _did_ truly care. She could feel that he was tense and scared, worried beyond the rational. His hug to her was meant to comfort but it had the opposite effect. She felt something she had felt in a long time. Clinging to him, she allowed herself to fall into him, to be enveloped by his arms; to be needed and give in return.

She felt something in his arms, a longing and a comfort that she had to admit that she didn't feel with Jesse. With Jesse, she was safe and cared for....but, with Wes, it was somehow different. It wasn't necessarily meant to be and it wasn't necessarily safe, but it was there. It was deeper than what she felt with Jesse, and it wasn't till just then that she made that realization.

Her heart clenched at her discovery. Yes, she did care about Wes. She was fond of him and cared about his well-being just as much as he cared about her, maybe more.

And, she knew one other thing; she was well aware that Jesse was viewing the entire scene. She couldn't help but feel extremely fucking guilty.

"_Go_," Wes whispered again, pulling back to look at her. "Go now and stay safe." His hands went on either side of her face, scanning her features with his eyes and fingers as if desperate to take everything in to remember her. Was it because he feared for her life or his own? He pulled her forward, lightly and sweetly kissing her forehead. "_Please_ go."

"No…_no_," she restated adamantly, shaking her head. "Come with us!"

"Please, April, don't...you don't understand that I _can't_. Too dangerous. Please go now. They'll kill you…and your mother," Wesley hesitantly revealed.

"My mom," she questioned, suddenly panicked. "What about her?"

"_PLEASE_ go. I'll make sure she gets out. I promise."

"Wes, what are you hiding from me," she pushed.

"God damn it, leave," he repeated from what seemed like the thousandth time. He should have known she wasn't going to get exit without a fight. Her mother didn't call her stubborn for nothing.

"_GO_," he said again, his voice shaky, physically pushing her away from him. "Jesse, if you have to fucking lift her ass up and carry her out, get her out _now!_"

With those words, Jesse grabbed April hard at the wrist and yanked her behind him.

"Thank you," Jesse muttered to Wes. "I'll take good care of her."

"You better. I'll haunt you forever if you don't," he joked.

"Wait, Jesse! _Wait_," April protested as she was manhandled out of the room. "Wes, come with us! WES!"

Her last glimpse of him was surrounded by extremely beautiful, lithe people, the blonde he had as a date skirting around him in the center.

"Wesley, Wesley, Wesley," the blonde drawled. "_She's_ not going to like this. You talk to much, sire. And _why_ did you have to go and kiss her, huh? Oh, you're gonna pay for that one."

* * *

"Oh _please_, you never _just_ cooperate," Hannah scoffed. "Please, spare me. I'm not an idiot."

"I swear," Abby begged. "Please, please. Just--just call off everyone, ok?"

"We'll see," she smirked. "It all depends on you."

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I just want my family safe. Can you guarantee that?"

Hannah crossed her heart mockingly.

"Sure thang," she smiled. "Well there's only one thing we want; come with us."

"Where would I be going," Abby said, looking down at her feet.

"Doesn't matter. You are to come with me and my associates and we are to escort you to my superior," she answered.

Abby had to think of something. There was obviously a reason why her mother went to such great lengths to avoid these people. She'd given up her life to protect herself and her kids, and she was sure her father gave up his life to protect his wife. With all that sacrifice and blood spilt in their name, out of love, would she just lay down and give up?

Hell no.

Without letting on to what she was about to do, Abby readied herself, getting herself in position to attack. She only had one way to get out unscathed; she had to kill Hannah.

She remained silent as if in contemplation, not wanting to give her any indication of her plans.

Hannah rambled on about how great it would finally be to have a Stuart back in their midsts, that they can all finally relax. Apparently, she was the key to their plan, the most vital part. Without Abby as part of the cast of characters, someone's plans weren't going to come true.

_'Oh, Hannah, the villain monologue is so overrated,' _she thought.

As soon as she knew Hannah was distracted by her own ego, Abby made her move.

She flipped around, hopping on Hannah, wrapping herself around her body and sinking her teeth into her throat.

Abby drank as Hannah protested, muttered something incoherent.

As she drank, she found her insides starting to burn. It overwhelmed her, the burning from deep down inside with ever sip.

"Oh god," Abby spewed as she slid down the girl's body to the floor.

Now she realized what Hannah had been saying; latin chants. She was using her powers against Abby.

"You stupid, bitch," Hannah hissed, trying her best to stop the bleeding from her throat. "You and your family are going to pay for that." She reached down to the collar of her cloak, grabbing onto a pinned microphone. She purposefully pressed the button on the side and gave Abby a sly, crazed smile.

"It's Hannah. You know those two you have captured? Kill them."


	30. Little Miss Fortune

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/28/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

Her heart shot up into her throat.

"_No_," Abby yelped. "_Please_..._please_ _don't_..." Her pleas were abruptly cut off by the echoing, jarring sound an explosion.

She sank to her knees, her legs suddenly weighing a thousand tons and dragging her down. There had only been maybe one time before in her life when she had felt that level of hopelessness. It was something she had hoped she'd never have to feel again.

The blast continued over the phone, mini spikes in sound happening erratically. The worst part was, she didn't know where exactly the sound was coming from. She listened to the sounds of the dance outside, which had become mostly become teenage chatter regarding the confusion of the former crashing noise.

But...oddly, the explosion was not in the near vicinity, the only reverberation left a muffled version in Hannah's earpiece that Abby's vampire hearing could easily pick up.

"It's done," a voice affirmed on the other end, followed by a click to end the transmission.

"Good," Hannah sneered, keeping her eyes locked on Abby, snapping the phone shut in victory. "Bet you're wondering who it could be, huh, Ab?"

Her mind was spinning; if the explosion wasn't there at the dance, where was it? Who wasn't at the dance. Lenore? Ruby? Bobby? Dylan? Jamie? She thought she was going to be sick.

"Let's just say it was part of your extended family, Winchester. Becky was a warning shot; these two were not. We'll take out every one of them, one at a time, until we get our way, Abigail. Don't say I didn't warn you." She walked forward towards Abby, one graceful step at a time, her dark black cloak dragging across the parquet floor behind her.

"What--what do I have to do," Abby whispered, the guilt that she was responsible for the deaths of those she knew in the forefront of her mind.

"You will come with us, leaving them all behind," she smiled brilliantly, much too vibrantly for someone who had just had a hand in ending someone's life and was in the process of ending her own.

"For how long," Abigail dared to ask.

"Well, forever of course. No more fooling around, Miss Stuart. You have responsibilities elsewhere that are more important than your family right now." She straightened out her robe as if she were royalty about to sit on her throne.

"You can't suggest that I just pick up and abandon them all," Abby scoffed.

"That's precisely what I am demanding," Hannah said, wiping blood from her face.

"But I'm a mother and a wife...do you honestly think if I just disappear that Dean won't come running after me? You would have to be out of your fucking mind to think that he wouldn't be two steps behind following me! And you know that my two eldest would join in...and Sam. I can't possibly just pick up and leave."

Hannah thought a moment, realizing that the vampire did have a point. The boys were already suspicious of the letters and who could have sent them. Having Abby just disappear into thin air would rile them up and they would sure as hell follow her.

"Fine. Point taken. Any alternate ideas then," she quirked her brow.

"You have to give me some time," Abby explained, trying to force as much time out of the situation as possible. "I'll need time to get them off of my back about the letters and Becky. Then, once I know they won't follow, I'll go."

"And, how long do you propose this will take?"

"I don't know...six months perhaps," Abby offered, her internal hope hinging on time.

"Six months," she scoffed, laughing manically. "OH no, no we will need you before then."

"Four."

"No."

"Two."

"No."

"One."

"Ah, the first step towards dealing with loss; bargaining. One month, huh? Hmm...I'll have to check with my superior," Hannah said, stepping aside, whispering into her ear piece.

One month. Could she even imagine a life without her family, and that it could happen so soon? One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. Seven-hundred and twenty hours from that moment...she would never see any of them again. One month if she were lucky.

"Fine," Hannah hissed, snapping the cell shut in irritation. "You're wish is granted, _my_ _Lady_. Someone really must care for you on our side. You will have one month from now. The sixth of June at eleven pm, we will come for you. Don't try to run, don't try to hide. We'll find you. Additionally, this is only on some very strict conditions. The first, you may tell NO ONE of this deal. If you do, we will kill again. Could be your precious Gwen, maybe Bobby, perhaps Lenore...or maybe your precious youngest son, Jamie. Who knows, could just as easily just get to Sam or Dean like that." She snapped her fingers. "That could be their necks you know. We know where you all live, work, go to school, get groceries, see movies...hell, we even know where your daughter gets her hair done. Don't think that if you fuck up that we can't get you anytime, anywhere. There's no escape this time, Winchester. We've got you right where we want you."

Hannah approached her, still smiling in victory. She was right. They did win; there was no use in denying it. They had laid the perfect trap, knowing that she would have answered any call to attend something in her daughter's name; for her family's safety. It was done. But...she did have a month to try to figure anything out. It may be on her own, but she had to try. Any life without her family was not worth living. If it came down to that, she'd have to make preparations.

Hannah smiled maniacally at her, watching as the thoughts of her impending departure went through Abby's mind. Stupid bitch.

'_And don't try to telepathically tell people either, _you_ stupid bitch,'_ she mocked. _'We'll be monitoring that pretty little brain of yours too.'_

She couldn't help but feel violated by the fact that they were willing to go through her inner most thoughts to get what they wanted. Then again, hadn't she done the same in the past to get information? Karma really was a bitch, and right now, that particular bitch was named Hannah.

"Why _me_," Abby found herself repeating quietly between gritted teeth, her balled up fists shaking, gripping onto her dress.

"Simple," Hannah simpered. "It's in your _blood_. You're bloodline, your lineage to be exact, is directly from the one who started it all.... but look at me go doing the bad guy monologue again. My mistake. You want to know more?"

"Yes," she scowled. "If I'm to do ANYTHING for you, I ....I want to know why this is all starting all over again."

"Do you really think you are in any position to ask anything of us," her attacker scoffed. "_Please_, you must be joking."

Abby had to think, if that was the only way she could have the upper hand, she was damn going to try. This could be the only way she could possibly garnish any position to her advantage.

"Look, I'm going to lose my life with my family. I want to know why...and who is in charge."

"All in good time, all in good time," Hannah laughed. "Within the next week or so, everything will be revealed to you."

"NO, I want to know _now_," Abby demanded, putting pressure on the young witch.

"I wouldn't do that," the girl warned, stepping back. "Don't forget, one snap of my finger, and everyone in that room, all those kids are dead...including your precious daughter."

'_Abby, get out of there,'_ a familiar male voice warned in her head. _'Get out!'_

Abby turned and started to walk away, her legs feeling heavier and heavier as she moved.

"Run along, dear Abigail. We'll be in touch," Hannah chuckled. A male vampire appeared from behind and Hannah removed her cloak, presenting it to the tall, lanky vampire, who held it with great reverence. She walked in the opposite direction of Abby, through the maze of partitioned walls, and back out to the dance.

Abby ran down the hallway to the room to find the same seen as before. All the kids were gathered together as if nothing happened. The now noticeable vampires in the room smugly grinning at her as she pushed her way through the throngs of teens towards the exit. Forcing her way between the huddled masses searching around for her daughter.

'_April? April,'_ she mentally cried out.

'_She's already gone,'_ the male voice interrupted again. _'I got her out and I promised to get you out. Go now!'_

She twisted her body towards the mental scream and saw a familiar face in a tussle. His lips were stained red with blood, another male vampire to his left grasping his neck in pain.

"Wes," she exclaimed.

"Get out," Wes yelled. "Run and take them with you!" He screamed as another vampire violently twisted his arm, snapping it as easily as a twig. Broken, he was overcome by the group around him and escorted towards another exit.

A chilling laugh focused her attention and what she discovered in the midst shocked her. Hannah was casually dancing with a human, watching the scene of Wes being dragged away with delight. The boy that grinded with her had no fucking clue that the woman in the too short black dress with white accents was trouble. She was dangerous, a lunatic; in many ways, she was pure evil.

'_I warned you that you were going to get it,'_ she directed a thought to Abby. _'I warned you _and_ Dean that night. Remember?'_

Frantically, Abby ran out the main entrance, fearful of what she would find in the parking lot. A war zone? Injured kin?

Her head pounding with panic, she stumbled outside to find her family surrounding Dean's car; safe.

"Abby! Abby! Where the hell were you," Dean ran to her, gripping her tight. "I couldn't find you."

"I'm ok," she reassured him, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. "Are _you_ ok?"

"Fine. Fine," he smiled, chuckling, kissing her lightly on the neck.

"Good," she said, pulling his hand and yanking him towards the car. "We need to get out of here; all of us."

Sam already had the Impala's engine running, April already sitting quietly in the back. Jesse was standing guard outside of her car door, smiling down at his date through the window. His grin was trying to tell April that it was ok, but his eyes couldn't hide the fact that he was scared and on edge. He must have felt Abby watching him, his look moving from her daughter to herself.

'_We need to talk,'_ she sent to him, receiving a nod in agreement.

"Ab, let's go," Dean pulled her closer to the car.

"Where's -- where's Gwen and Cas--"

"Gwen and Donovan ran around to see what was up. I'm not sure where Cas is but I'm pretty sure he ran after Gwen, or at least tried to. She called and said couldn't find anything out of the ordinary but they were going to try and take a better look around."

Of course not. Those vampires in there were shielding their powers and essence by something that was beyond even her own abilities. They were involved with something far more powerful than anything they had encountered before. It didn't surprise her that they hadn't recognized them for who they truly were.

Well, that made everyone accounted for so far, which made her finally let out that breathe she was holding.

Dean helped her in the car, finding a seat next to her daughter. He hopped into the passenger seat and told Sam to drive. It wasn't more than thirty-seconds into the trip home that Sam's cellphone began to ring...and she felt that familiar chill return. Something was still wrong.

"Hello," Sam answered. "Hey...._What?!_ How?!....Yeah he's here...hold on." He paused as he drove, trying to focus on the road but whatever had been uttered on the line had truly caught him off guard. "Dean, it's Bobby."

Oh god. Could--could Bobby be the one who...

"On the phone," Dean asked. Sam nodded and Abby let out a deep breathe. Thank god. But if not Bobby, then who?

"Hey Bobby, what's up," Dean asked, his smirk dropping. "When? How? Who did it?....Ok, we'll meet later. My house. Be careful."

He snapped the phone shut, his features purposely crisp and contained.

"Dad? What's going on," April had the courage to ask.

"Dean," Abby asked, putting her hand on his shoulder over the back of the passenger seat. "Hun?"

His hand raised from the front of the seat and grabbed her own.

"There was an attack or an accident; guess they can't tell yet. Bobby was listed as next of kin so he's getting all the info as it comes. There was an explosion in a warehouse...they were there investigating and didn't get out in time. Ellen and Jo didn't make it."

Time stood still as she realized why they didn't. Her friends were dead because she couldn't follow simple instructions. _She_ disobeyed and they paid for her mistake with their lives.

* * *

'_What the fuck just happened,' _April thought to herself, her fist balled under her chin as she stared out the car window. It began to rain; how appropriate, ironic and lame all at the same time.

All she knew was, for the start of the evening, it was going exceedingly well. Jesse was being as sweet as ever, maybe even a little timid at her presence than usual. He'd asked to take a hold of her hand, and sweetly escorted her into the dance, her arm clutched in the crook of his own. Being quite the gentleman the entire evening was wonderful but he seemed so....so _tense_. She wanted to remind him to breathe, to have a little fun, but he was so on edge. Perhaps he had felt something going on in the ballroom or perhaps he was very concerned that her dad would end him if she were hurt in any way. That included both physical and emotional discomfort. Leave it to her dad to put a damper on any of her fun plans with her date.

So they danced through the evening, Jesse still being excessively cautious but all that changed thanks to her awesome job at The Sprinkler. After practically falling over with laughter, Jesse was loosening up and it broke up any tension in him within seconds. That was good, truth be told, it was _very_ good. She was having a great point up until _he_ showed up.

Her stomach did flip flops just thinking of it all. The way he had looked at her, so upset yet so happy that _he_ was the one who made her escape possible. But _why? Why did he keep toying with her? Why?_

She knew exactly why but she didn't want to admit it. Yes, she couldn't deny the feel of him near had made her heart race.

April noticed her mother curiously gazing at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Everything alright, A.C," her mom questioned.

"I'll be ok," April smiled, adding in her mind that there was nothing she wanted to talk about and that her mother better stay out of her brain. Abby smirked and nodded, turning her attention back out the car window.

How odd her mother seemed extremely dazed since the evening's event. Sure, vampires had somehow infiltrated the dance but nothing _really_ happened. The vamps departed the scene shortly after her mother reappeared, leaving only the unharmed humans behind, completely oblivious to the danger had been communing with them. Nothing else happened. All was well and all were safe. That was, until the grave news regarding Jo and Ellen. But, were the incidents even connected or was it some sort of foolish matter of circumstance?

She gulped down the sobs that were threatening to release. Poor Jo and Ellen. Jo had become one of her only aunts over the years, training her to fight after she discovered her legacy as well as caring for her when she was a normal little girl. Ellen's death was equally as hard on her, being the only grandmother type figure she'd ever had in her life. It seemed that her family was getting smaller and smaller with every passing year.

April was doing her best to keep herself together as she thought about it. Perhaps that was why she couldn't keep a more coherent stream of thought.

Her mom silently reached over and squeezed her own hand. It had to be a maternal instinct to just understand without peering into her daughter's mind.

The ride home was rather quiet for a normal Winchester ride in the Impala. Sam concentrated on driving. Dean sat back in his seat with his hands behind his head, something he often did when he was stressed. No music. No laughter. No more words were spoken between the four of them until they reached their family home.

They exited the vehicle quietly just as Bobby pulled into the driveway. It was awesome having him live closer to them now. After all, they were all the family any of them had left.

Her old uncle, more of a grandfather in many respects, shifted out of his dinged, beaten up Chevelle, doing his best to slam the door behind him.

"Hey, boy," Bobby smiled at Dean.

Dean shifted over to Bobby and pulled him into a man-hug.

"Hey, Bobby," he muffled into his shoulder. "It's great to see ya."

"Been too damn long, kid. I thought the whole point of me movin' to this shittown was so we'd see each other more often?"

"Sorry, man," Dean said embarrassed. "Life has been...a little crazy."

"When has it not been crazy, ya idjit," Bobby joked, patting Dean on the shoulder and grabbing Sam in a hug as well. After the boys and her mom, she got her own embrace. Nothing beat Bobby hugs.

"How's my princess," Bobby asked his only niece.

"Too be honest, I'm not sure yet. Ask me in a few hours," April pulled back and gave him smile, although she was truthful in her words. She had plenty of stuff she had to figure out on her own.

* * *

"Meetin' with or without the kids," Bobby whispered, jabbin' Dean in the side as the elderly man took a seat in the comfy recliner.

"Without," he muttered in response. Sure, he'd ask April about her experience in the dance later, but they needed to figure out what the fuck really happened. Speaking of that, Dean pulled Abby aside.

He took her by forearm and tried his best not to drag her into the dining room; he had to remind himself to lead her, not pull, not drag. Lead.

Somethin' was up with his woman. She put on the big girl pants, sure, but she must have been dingo-ate-my-baby crazy to think that he didn't recognize there was something off. The way she had her arms wrapped around herself when they weren't holding each other's hands or near one another was something that just signaled bad news. But of course, she had that self-assured smile annoyingly plastered on her face that was meant to say everything would be ok. She must have learned that from him. For a vampire, she was a terrible liar.

"You wanna tell me what's goin on, Ab," he said, lifting her face so he could read her eyes.

"Everything is fine," she said with a little too much control, as if she had already been repeating that same mantra in her head over and over; to get herself to believe it.

He stared at her, his face softening in return, seeking some sort of reaction. All he was looking for was a smile, a twitch, a giggle, the same kind of crap he used to get her to do with just a silly, simple grin in her direction. Nothin'. Nada. Abby was fucking cold that night. Son of a bitch.

"Alright, so spill the beans," he said gruffly.

"Pardon," she asked, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow. Great, she was going to play on the defensive. Game on.

"What's going on; something is and you're not saying it. What happened when I went outside," he questioned.

"It was really _nothing_," she giggled. "It's not bad, it's just kind of _embarrassing_. You see, I was called away to break up a couple of kids having sex behind the scenery. I know, I know, I shouldn't feel weird about ti...but...it was _weird_."

Oh. _OH!_

"You know, young kids getting crazy and it just reminds me of our kids and then--"

"Yeah I get the visual," he blinked. He glanced up at her, seeing her shyly smiling at him.

"Well at first I had _that_ visual," she said making a disgusted face. "But then the whole thing about young love, unencumbered with live's problems. I was sort of...envious I guess. So it was nothing bad, Dean. Nothing at all."

Abby pulled him swiftly, flinging them both into the wall. Chuckling, she took his face between her cool fingers and pressed her lips to his.

"Happy," he said between her soft kisses.

"I'm just _happy_ you're ok," she sighed. "And now we have to leave happy and go back to reality, right?"

"Yeah. You sure you're ok, nothing else," he sighed, resting his forehead against her own. "Fine. If that was it then, it's no big deal...but if it were something more, you'd tell me, right."

"Yes," she whispered. "I would tell you." A great part of him believed her, that was was being completely truthful, that she was being his partner. But...part of him, that same part that had been betrayed by so many before, including Sam and his wife...

"Ok," he conceded, "Let's get back to this later, ok. I need you."

He hoped she really understood that last part, for he did need her; all of her.

She nodded and pulled away, walking next to him in the living room.

Sam was sitting tense on the couch, leaning forward on bent legs, talking with Bobby.

"Any word on Gwen and Cas," Bobby asked, rubbing his short beard.

"Not yet," Abby interrupted, taking the seat next to Sam on the sofa. "She would have signaled if she were in danger. I'm guessing she's following the trail--"

"OR," Dean plopped down beside her. "They went back to her place to get freaky."

"Dean," Sam yawned. "Really?"

"Well, you saw them at the dance, right? I mean, come on! She looked smoking--"

"Dean," Abby said, giving him _that_ look.

"So, what's the story Bobby," Sam asked solemnly.

* * *

As Abby listened to the details of the 'accident,' she couldn't help but feel nauseous.

Bobby said the two women were on a hunt for what they had pinned down for a demon. All the signs were there; weather phenomena, people acting strangely, deaths that couldn't just be ignored. So, they went to investigate, giving Bobby the heads up while they were in town and having him help them with the paper legwork. He was looking something up for them in regards to some old barn or warehouse in the area.

"When I didn't hear from them in a day, I started to get worried and began checkin' around on nearby hunters. Next thing I hear, I get a phone call from this hunter called Tobias who was workin' a similar case the next town over. Apparently it was all over the news. Warehouse explosion, 2 victims," Bobby said, sliding some newspaper clippings across the coffee table.

"_Explosion Rocks Small Town"_

"_Jane Doe and John Doe Found in Charred Building"_

"_Explosion Caused By Arson: No Leads"_

"_Cause of Explosion Not Found"_

"_John and Jane Doe Victims of Murder-Suicide"_

"The hunter thought the stories sounded like bull. I mean, the explosion was what it was; you can't deny that when something goes boom. And that's something too big and bold to ignore. They found no fingerprints, no car treads at the scene besides the couple's car. Tobias investigated the scene and found this."

He slid several photographs across the table.

Abby looked them over slowly, trying to take everything is.

"Are these where the two were found," she pointed out, curious by the burn marks around where the bodies were found. "There are chains around that are highly burnt and coiled...as if they were around the bodies. Wrapped around the bodies. How the hell could this be a murder-suicide if both people were immobile?"

"That's exactly what Tobias was wonderin'. In that explosion, there was no visible accelerant or anything really out there. He said cops didn't know what started the oil in the barn to explode. The rent-a-cops couldn't find their ass from a hole in the ground. They were thinking lightening; freak accident...that was until they found the female wrapped in the chains. Not just any chains."

"Let me guess," Dean said, panning over the other photos. "Silver?"

"Silver with burned on dead man's blood and vervain," Bobby corrected, saying that the hunter had tested it himself.

"Wait--dead man's blood," Sam said to himself, without finishing the thought. Everyone had the exact thought in their mind; vampire. The victims were vampires.

"Ab, take a look at this," Dean said, leaning over so they could both look at the picture. "See anything about this car that's familiar?"

She took a good long look at the vehicle and then noticed the insignia on the license plate. It was the symbol for her nest; two people from her nest could be the victims.

"Who would murder two vamps like that," Abby said. "Were their heads--"

"The female's was gone. The male...he was tortured. I'm guessing too much DMB and vervain, cutting, no feeding and the explosion...probably just finally gave out."

"They were from the nest--our nest," she pointed to the insignia. "But...Lenore never said anything about this..."

"I'm guessin' the same people who took this couple out also took out Jo and Ellen," Dean surmised. "But what motive would someone or something have to kill vampires AND hunters?"

She didn't know the answer to the first murders but she sure as hell knew why Jo and Ellen's happened.

Nothing was making much sense anymore. Her friends paid for her folly with their lives, and now, she found out two more victims had been found from her district nest. Why hadn't she'd been alerted as to two members disappearances? Had Lenore truly kept her so completely out of the loop since Dylan's accident that she didn't know what was going on? Who was in charge anymore?

"Ab, you ok," Sam asked.

"Are you alright, Abby? You look like your head is gonna explode," Bobby said with concern written all over his worn features.

"Yeah. Yeah," she lied, with a million 'what ifs' and 'how comes' running through her head at once. "I just need a moment to myself. I'm just going to step outside for a while."

"Need any company," Dean asked only to be met by her hand up, stopping him in his place.

"I just need to be alone for a few, Dean," she smiled, kissing his forehead as she rose. "I'll be right outside." She was met by that look from Dean, the one where his eyes tighten and his brow furrowed. He was worried. "I'm going to be right outside the house. I promise. Cross my heart."

As she walked outside the door, across the porch and down the worn stairs out onto the front lawn, she sucked in the warm breeze in the night air, trying desperately to hold it together long enough for Dean to walk away from the front window. Abby didn't need to turn around to know he was watching her stand in front of the house her arms crossed. She just had to keep it together long enough to make it over to the side of the house.

One step at a time, she told herself. One step at a time. Step. Step. Step.

As soon as she was out of Dean's line of sight, she collapsed on the soft earth. Abby broke down, clutching at the dirt through her silent, retching sobs. What was she going to do? How could she come to terms with losing her family? How could she?

She didn't. She couldn't. Without her family, she had nothing. She was nothing.

Her sadness was quickly morphing into a dangerous anger. Something was brewing inside her, a hatred long since dormant. The rage she had felt from Dean's death and his betrayal was nothing like this. Abby hadn't felt that angered or powerless since--since her parent's death. It was only that time between William's betrayal and overt disregard for her body and safety and the outright murder of her parents...and then her brother.

Her body shook as she clawed at the ground in silent agony not wanting to make a noise as to alert the others to her despair. Her sorrow was her own, one that she was going to have to deal with in order to have her family survive and move on--soon without her.

"Hello, Mrs. Winchester."

Abby raised her eyes up to see Jesse leaning against the side exterior wall, right underneath her daughter's window.

She stood up, the tears from her eyes ceasing from spilling over.

"What are you doing here," she sniveled.

"You had said you wanted to talk," he glanced around, scanning the scene. "Look, if you want to talk, now would be the best time. They are busy cleaning up the situation with Wes and your two friends. I've also got this."

He tossed over a silver amulet that smelt of aromatic herbs.

"A witch friend of mine made this and it will help block your thoughts more accurately. So, if you want to talk, let's get on with it," he drawled.

She stepped forward in front of him, forcing him to the wall. Abby crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow which she always did when she interrogated.

"Alright...let's start from the beginning; how do you know Wes and who sent you to do surveillance on my family?"


	31. Stiff Upper Lip

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

"How much do you want to know," Jesse replied, rubbing his temples, attempting to quell the tension in his mind.

"Everything and anything you have that would be pertinent to my daughter's safety," she whispered below human level decibels. "I--I need to know what I just--I need to know what exactly happened in there; why was Wes there?"

"How do you know--," the vampire questioned with obvious confusion.

"I just know him, alright," she cut him off. She didn't want to divulge anything more than she had to in regards to Wes. He had been kind to her and a good partner for a while, helping her out on some hunting jobs. But, that had been when she was under the assumption that he was a mutual friend of her group; of her family. If only she would have seen the signs, wondered why he was hanging around. Maybe, just maybe if she had known--

"Just make with the talk...please."

He motioned for her to come closer. Pushing his blonde hair from his eyes, he motioned down to her amulet. His hands reached up, as if in request, and he lifted the chain and told her to tuck it into her shirt.

"Look, that amulet will protect your thoughts while the herbs are fresh. I can get you some more once they start to fade, but, for tonight they will work well. Just please, be discreet about wearing it. Keep it hidden."

He covered his lips with his finger, reminding her to be quiet and calm.

"I'll make this as short and brief as possible," he softly uttered. She didn't doubt that his story was a long one. After all, what vampire's wasn't? If she could tell one person her whole story, every word of it, they had better have years to sit and listen.

Jesse sighed and crisply revealed his true story with very little emotion to his voice. Once again, that was not surprising. There was hardly a vampire alive that did not have a tale of woe that spanned the centuries, full of loves lost and hopes long forgotten. There was no such thing as an eternal being without a past.

He sighed, seemingly going through his story in his head, trying to figure out what was really relevant for her to know. Once he had figured it out, it came out like water out of a faucet. Wesley and him were friends from long before, two Lamia growing up more as kin than just friends. Then, following a terrible, tragic accident with his adopted human sister, the two felt only hatred for one another.

"It was _his_ fault that Jenny changed; not mine," he said with no mark of vengeance in his voice. "If I were in the same position, I'd rather her be dead than to have to live like us. It's not natural for a human to become one of us."

A sigh escaped his lips, his head bowing. What a peculiar reaction regarding the loss of a loved one. Then again, she wasn't truly lost. She was still alive, or cursed as it were. Either way, the anger he probably felt for Wes at that time, torch of burning hot rage, was a mere flicker of a candle now. He was tired of hating him. He was tired of caring about it.

That's what hundreds of years of bullshit did to a person; it just made you tired of everything.

"So about this demon," she interrogated further, pushing the conversation into revealing the information she needed.

He shrugged.

"I don't know who she was, all she said was that she was a demon. Her name was never revealed. She would appear randomly through the years but her presence was scarce. There was some kind of coven of people involved around her; vampires, demons, shifters. They were all working towards a common goal; the apocalypse. Wes always believed it was bull."

So had she...once.

"The deal made that day to save my sister chained us to Jenny. Maybe--maybe it _was_ partially out of guilt but it was the actual sealing of the deal that kept us to her. Jenny had a great affinity for the female demon who had 'saved' her, doing her bidding and coming into her great favor. You could say that she was her greatest pupil. Whatever the demon would ask, Jenny would abide...including killing mine and Wes' parents. It was a test of her loyalty...and our loyalty to her. Not one day before, Wes and I had the audacity to tell her no to something; I told her she had no right to kill so indiscriminately and Wesley reluctantly took my side. From that moment on, we knew that nothing we did against her would go unpunished, that included not investigating your family."

"And what about now, Jesse? What side are _you_ on?"

"I will do _anything_ and _everything_ to keep April absolutely safe, including laying down my own life. Jenny can punish me all she wants later. When she whines to the demon's inner circle, it's inevitable," he chuckled nervously.

"And Wes," Abby said, curling her fist under her chin, looking down contemplatively to the dewy grass below.

Jesse winced, glancing down at the ground with a sad smile that answered her question before he even spoke. Years of intense hatred towards his former enemy and best friend was seemingly dulling before her eyes.

"I often wondered what his real motivation was in regard to April. It seemed at times he was only toying with her. He has that tendency that I've seen over the years. Although, oddly, I never doubted his love and devotion for my sister. But when it came to April I wasn't going to stand for that kind of conduct it any further. But, when he had her all at his disposal, he didn't use her to gain knowledge or to abuse your family. He didn't bother to compel her for information. He--he simply gave in. He tracked me down and dragged me back, demanding that I take care of her, using some ruse that he wanted to be by Jenny's side as an excuse. I thought it was true, that he was just done with her; that the game with her was over. He'd just tired of her. I cared more for April's welfare than my own so I stayed back. But," he chuckled, "he proved me wrong tonight. He risked everything tonight to get her out in particular. And I'm obliged. Much obliged."

She was as well. Truth be told, she was over the moon grateful that her child was out of harm's way.. If it wasn't for him leaving his post and putting himself in peril all for the sake of her daughter...

"What--what will happen to him, now that he's exposed himself as a traitor," she said, readying herself for a truth she already knew.

He didn't answer. All he had to do was give her a sad look. She knew what his sentence was. No one would ever see Wes again.

* * *

April remained leaning against the window sill, her eyes shut tight. She let the words from below sink in. No. NO. It couldn't be. That couldn't have happened.

She clung to her robe, gripping the tie to the point where her hands were white. How did she not _know_? How did she not see? Was everyone hiding something from her?

"Thank you, Jesse," Abby said. "I appreciate your honesty regarding all of this. I will be on alert; please keep an eye on April for me."

"I will," Jesse sighed. "You keep an eye on your family, Abby. I don't know what the group wants with you, but they are willing to do anything to get to you--and April. Please, please be careful. Whatever their motive is, I can guarantee that it is not with good intentions."

April listened to her mother's footfalls as she approached the front of the house and back up the interior stairs. When she heard her father greet her mother, she darted as fast as she could. In one smooth motion, she swung herself out the window landing unharmed on the ground below. She already had Jesse pinned against the side of the house, her hand covering his mouth.

"You better keep your mouth _shut_," she hissed, her canines extended in her grief.

Jesse carefully lifted up his hands in defeat.

"April--," he quietly muffled, his mouth moving against her open palm.

"Shut up," she snapped not able to keep her voice steady. "Just _shut up _and answer my _question_; what is going to happen to Wes?"

"April--"

"WHAT?!"

She took her hand away from his mouth and stared him down. He knew the answer; they both knew he knew. April also guessed that Jesse was now aware that she overheard himself and her mother talking. Was there even a goddamn reason to lie to her?

Even so, she had to know for sure; she had to hear it from _him_.

Jesse guiltily glanced to the hard ground and back up to meet her eyes, remorse filling his to the brim.

"He's dead," he said with no hint of emotion in his voice.

"You...you don't know that. How--how can you be sure...you've been here since the encounter; you can't be sure--"

"I'm _sure_, April," he sighed with a soft chuckle under his breathe. She didn't know what to feel as he smiled at her. Was he happy that Wes was dead? Did he feel some sort of odd, sick form of satisfaction knowing that he had 'won,' knowing that currently her only other suitor was dead?

Her heart was pounding, her eardrums pulsing with every beat, her blood pumping erratically through her body. Bile rose to her throat, filled with all the burning regret, loss and anger she could muster.

April's hand automatically lifted to his face, snapping Jesse's head to one side, then the other.

"You knew didn't you," she cried all the while continuing her assault. "At the dance, when he asked you to get me out...you _knew_ that he was going to die for warning me?"

He didn't stop her from striking him, instead taking the full brunt from each blow. Why didn't he stop her? Why didn't he fight back? It was only making her angrier. Yet, she was finding that didn't have the heart to hit him anymore. Her hand slid back down to her side, clutching parts of her soft fabric between her clenched fingers.

"I won't stop you," Jesse said, as if reading her mind. "Yes. Yes I knew what was going to happen. I told you that I knew them; I know how they operate. Believe me, I know--that's why I left. I couldn't do what I feared they were going to ask me to do. I couldn't let it get that far."

"And what _exactly_ was that," April hissed. "What exactly did they want from you?"

"That's the thing April, I don't know! I--you know, I really have no fucking clue what they wanted from you. They just set me out to get information on 'the girl' and your family. We weren't ranked high on the totem pole to know much. Jenny gave the orders from the ones in charge; we were just following what she commanded. That was, until I just couldn't anymore. I couldn't let them hurt you, not once I realized I had feelings for you."

He stopped briefly, taking in a ragged breathe. His light eyes lifted to her own, his charged with the depths of the Caribbean sea. Both were filled with turmoil and rage of an unsettled ocean.

"April," he started, taking an unsure step towards her. She didn't bend or resist. She only stood before him, clad in her robe, noticeably sheer in the moonlight. His hand lifted to her face, caressing her tender features between him fingers. His thumbs traced her jawline from chin to ear. It wasn't until then did she realize how vulnerable she really was. She was outside her house, far enough away from help, in the grasp of a much stronger vampire who was once previously ordered to stalk her. If he was lying about his intentions, she was surely dead by the time someone noticed her missing. Yet, she had absolutely no fear. Perhaps it was pure stupidity or naivety on her part, but she believed his pleas enough to trust him. His eyes spoke of a sorrow and remorse that could not be uttered with his tongue. Oh yes, she believed him--she believed what he said about Wesley.

Her eyes burned, the tears coming back in the forefront of her mind. This time, she wasn't full of the rage that had consumed her causing her to confront Jesse only moments before. The thought of Wes--_Wes_. He had willingly come to her aid, _knowing_ that he had just signed his own death warrant possibly in place of her own.

April sank down to the ground, the white of her pristine dressing gown being tarnished by the dirt and mud of the earth. It was like an actual representation of what her insides were feeling; she felt wrong and tarnished for what had happened. It was because of HER that Wes was dead. Choice or no choice, if she had never met him, he would most likely still be alive.

Arms wrapped around her, coddling her in strong, capable arms.

"April," he sobbed quietly into her hair, lifting her up into his chest. "I know what he meant to you. Believe me...he...he was my--my brother."

She listened as he choked on his own words, his own grief tangible in his voice. All the years of hatred, of mistrust, melting away in an instant. Even so, she could not console him. Her lips could not utter a word.

"I know what you felt for him, and by God I know what you meant to him. Wesley has _never_ done something so unselfish in his life. Even when he 'saved' Jenny, it wasn't for her; it was for him. He couldn't see a life without her, you know. He was so in love, no, so infatuated with her, wanting that life that he just couldn't have. He didn't know that saving her would result in this. April, if he could have seen that saving her all those years ago would lead to putting you in danger, he would change it all over. I believe that. I really do."

That was a small comfort to her. What if he could? Would he have ever met her? It was at that moment that April felt extremely selfish. How would her life have been if she had never met Wesley? True, her life would be less complicated than it currently was, but...

She whimpered softly into Jesse's shoulder, clinging to him, her fingers gripping into his chilled skin.

He let her cry, soothingly stroking her hair. April could feel his body shift. He was calm at first his hands moving in slow, soft circles, but, her sobs broke something in him, the levee holding back his emotions spilled over. His hands were more tense, now seizing her tightly to him as he softly bawled into her neck.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not him. I know I'm not him. I know. In spite of that, I'm going to keep you safe. I promise. I owe both you and him that much."

He drew her back, trying to get her to meet his eyes.

"Hey, hey," he said, desperately trying to get her full attention. She finally looked up to him. "I'm--I'm going to go now, all right. I love you, April. I--I don't know how you feel and I can't ask you about that now. You need time to grieve. Just, even if it's just as a friend, I love you."

Jesse leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead.

'_I love you too, friend,' _she thought, but did not say.

She didn't want her words to hold more of a purpose than they should and with both of them so vulnerable at the same time.

Before he departed, he reminded her that he was going to keep his word to her mother and remain at a close enough distance.

"Let me give you a leg up," he offered, bending down placing his hands together palms up.

April nodded in thanks and used his hands to boost herself up, jumping for her window ledge and slipped herself back into her room.

She knew her parents would be coming up to check on her soon. That's just the type of parents they were.

Quickly and quietly, at vampire speed, she changed her dirtied pajamas and jumped into her bed, grabbing her diary as she normally would. She had to play the normal teenage girl back from a magical evening to the best of her ability. Everything was normal. Everything was normal.

She wished she could tell her chest the same thing. How could it possibly be that hard to breathe?

Knock. Knock.

Right on cue.

* * *

Good. April seemed relatively fine. Abby knew deep down her daughter knew Wes was in danger, if not dead. She could read her little girl like a book.

Their daughter had been fairly open about what happened at the dance with the confrontation, a piece that Dean had not been made aware of until then. April left out the part about her mother also being in danger. Smart girl. She knew something else was up as well and, like a true Stuart woman, decided to withhold it from Dean. Clever child not to upset her father.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

They closed the door behind them, heading back downstairs.

Standing around chatting was not just Sam and Bobby, but Ruby, Cas and Gwen as well. They all looked sullen. It was obvious Bobby had told given them all the grave news regarding Jo and Ellen and the other unfortunate incident.

"This is so sad," Gwen said, leaning into Cas, still dressed in their prom attire.

"And odd," Cas said with a monotone inflection. "And not random."

"How--how could these people," Ruby said, sitting in the chair opposite Bobby, her swelled feet up on the ottoman.

They all turned their attention to their resident ex-demon, wondering if she had any clues regarding the omens and sightings near the area of Jo and Ellen's 'accident.'

"Maybe demons," she said, her eyes scanning the photos and news articles. "But, not just demons, someone else is involved. From the looks of the chains, either hunters or part of the supernatural."

"Well, that narrows it down to, oh I don't know, _anyone_," Dean said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey, I'm not a mind reader, Dean," she shot back, continuing to glance at the page. "Yeah, definitely supernatural. They know too many inside tricks. Like, this." She held up a page and pointed at the chains. "Notice anything on them?"

Sam pulled it away from her, looking down at a closeup of the chains.

"There's markings, symbols and wards almost like a devil's trap but it's different."

"Sometimes, this can be used for vampires," Ruby said. "Slows them down. Note the cross on there, not like one you've seen before. It's ancient. Now, look at the chains that held the girl."

Her finger tapped the photo of the charred remnants.

"Shit," Sam said.

"Well, what is it boy," Bobby questioned.

He slid the photo across the table for all to see.

There it was. She wasn't shocked, but the eyes of everyone else in the room went wide. Was the room suddenly colder?

Dean walked briskly to the locked bookcase, opening it and pulling out a firesafe full of items of importance. She knew what he was reaching for.

He pulled out one of many envelopes and slid it across the table. It landed next to the newsprint photograph.

There it was. It was all out now. The symbol on her letters matched the symbol on the chains perfectly.

She readied herself for the gauntlet. Abby knew what they were going to ask. She knew what they were going to say. So she kept her calm, opened her shields and prepared. She was ready to lie with all her might to keep her friends and family unaware and very much alive.


	32. Future Says Run

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

Abby was on the rampage.

She was pissed off, more than Dean had seen her in long ass time.

Before he had even gotten the car to a complete stop, she had jumped out of the passenger seat of the Impala.

"Hey, wait up," he called chasing after her. She wasn't stopping. Nope, she was on a mission to see one person and one person only.

"Lenore," he heard her yell down the main hallway of the nest's central offices in Chicago. "Lenore, get out here RIGHT NOW!"

Dean laughed to himself. Whatever Abby wanted, Abby got.

"LENORE!"

"Yes. YES! _Jesus_," Lenore said, peering out of her office door. "Abby, what the fuck is your problem?! You know people _work_ here, if you want to speak to me, you can kindly come into my office like a sane woman."

Abby's heeled boots clacked on the tile in front of him as he ran up to her. He just managed to slip into the office behind her before she slammed the door shut.

Poor thing was tense, breathing erratically and had been that way for at least two hours. It was all from that damn phone call. If she wasn't already a vampire, he'd be worried about her giving herself a stroke.

They had been in the living room and had been ready to interrogate the hell out of her about the symbol. Sam got to her first. She kept repeating that she didn't get the correlation between the two and the only facts that she knew about was they matched, same as them. She swore up and down that was all he knew. He had to believe her; he had not other choice. For now, he had to trust her until something else, if something else, came up.

"What the great blue hell would compel you to call Sonora to investigate this situation in Stuart, Iowa?"

Lenore shifted around her nonchalantly taking a seat in her large comfy chair at her desk, leaning back without care.

"She's the best we have for this kind of investigation, Abby, not that it's much of your concern as of right now; you're still on leave."

"Screw on leave! She called me to ask if it was ok. I told her no, but then I hear she had direct orders to take Dylan with...from you," she pointed.

"Your point is," Lenore sighed, as she shuffled through some paperwork.

Abby slammed her hand down on top of the papers. Lenore wasn't startled, she was calm and collected as she raised her eyes to her friend and colleague.

"You don't want to start with me today," Lenore hissed, standing up from her seat.

"Well that's just too fucking bad," Abby hissed back.

Oh boy.

"Woah! Woah," Dean stepped in, standing next to the desk. "Why don't you both calm the fuck down or I'll take you both out."

They both looked at him and snickered.

"I'm serious!"

"If you could catch us," the leader scoffed. She sighed and relaxed her body, putting a hand to her forehead. "Look, Dylan is good. He's great at this kind of work. He's strong, fit, intelligent--"

"He could be in danger right now as we speak."

"Could be," Lenore said with a shrug. "Your point?"

"I mean _real_ danger. _Stuart_, Iowa," Abby raised her eyebrow.

Fuck. Dean had never considered that little tidbit, the name of the town was his wife's maiden name. That had to mean something, right?

"I mean do you even know who's death's you sent them to investigate? Do you have a flippin' clue," his wife pressed.

"A couple hunters and a couple of our vamps--"

"Those hunters were Jo and Ellen, Lenore. You just sent my son to investigate the death of his aunt and practically the only grandmother figure he has every known," she stopped, clenching her fists next to her, her body as tense as a overly wound guitar string. She closed her eyes and went on. "Will they be following protocol?"

"If by that you mean posing as officers to see the bodies in the morgue," she said, glancing from Abby to Dean and back again. "Then yes. In fact, they already visited the morgue. They're still listed as Jane Does. Sonora said she could hardly tell they were female. There was little left."

Dean choked back his anger. Of all people who should have seen those two like that, it sure as hell shouldn't have been his son. It took everything in him not to run out the door, get in his car and hightail it to where-god-left-his-shoes, Iowa.

Wow. It had to be seriously bad if his son couldn't even identify his own relatives. True, they weren't exactly their flesh and blood, but they were family. Blood didn't make family.

As Abby and Lenore continued to feud, Dean't mind wandered. He wondered if he had any photos of Jo and Ellen from when they were hunting full-time, from the time when Jo crushed on him like crazy. He knew she liked him. He could tell. Back then, she was a girl. When it came to women, he might have been a dog in his younger days, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tap that. Nope. So that's what he did; he didn't do that with her. He just became really good friends with her, bonding on their dad issues and admiring her charisma and hunting abilities. What color was her hair?

Fuck, she was gone for less than a day, and he could barely fucking remember. Blonde, but what shade? The only thing he could remember were her jokes, her laugh, her eyes and her smile. Joanna Beth's smile was contagious; when she was grinning you could bet that everyone else around her was as well.

Ellen had the same look as her daughter. Although they were a little worn from grief, Ellen always had the warmest eyes.

"So, you're tellin' me you let my son go identify his dead family members without our consent," he bit his lip, holding back exactly what he wanted to say. He took his place beside his wife, forming a visible united front.

"He's not your concern right now--," Lenore started, not getting to finish before he started towards her.

Dean took a step towards the vampire, the only thing between himself and Lenore the desk that could easily be pushed aside. He placed his hands on the table, leaning on the surface, the papers under his fingers crackling as he scattered them about.

"Not _my_ concern, Lenore? He's only my son. MY son and I'll be damned if someone is gonna make decisions they're not supposed to make about his safety. You got that? Call him back. He's coming home and you can bitch and moan that he has to pay his dues to society. That's fine but NOT this way. Not. This. Way."

Lenore stared him down, not making a move. Was she trying to bluff him out? She should know better.

Dean picked up her phone and thrust the receiver towards her.

"NOW," he demanded.

She grabbed the phone from his hands and moved her hands in a blur to dial the number.

"Sonora, it's Lenore....Mission is over. I'm sending Donovan instead. Come to the nest with Winchester as soon as possible."

* * *

Dylan sat in the driver seat, taking his turn behind the wheel for the car ride home.

He didn't know why Lenore called him and Sonora back, but either way they were on the trek home. Well, not home exactly; the nest would never be 'home' to him. It amused him to be as old as he was and still long for his folk's house. It was the little things he missed; his mom trying to figure out the dinner menu and doing the laundry, somehow always ending up shrinking one of April's tops. Jump to April yelling at Mom for ruining her clothes. Then his dad laughing and trying to break up the fight, while Jamie would take the opportunity to go sneak cookies from the kitchen. It was the everyday chaos that had been fun.

As he mused about his past, Sonora sulked in the passenger seat staring out the window. He had promised not to use his abilities on her, and he was going to keep his word. Still, he didn't need to be empathic to know something was wrong with her and it was bothering him. Ever since Lenore had called them back her mood completely switched. She went from super strict and professional investigator to emo girl.

"Wanna talk about it," Dylan asked, keeping his eyes on the road. He didn't care if she answered, she just wanted her to know that he noticed she was in deep thought.

"It's nothing," she replied.

Sure. Everyone always stares vastly off into space over nothing. He stopped himself, deciding it was best not to push her.

"It's just," she started, running her hand through her short, dark hair. "It's just _odd_."

"Odd how," he asked, surprise in his tone. He really wasn't expecting a response from her at all.

"Switching the team. I mean, _Donovan_? That man can barely tell his ass from a hole in the ground! Sure, he's a good _fighter_, but that doesn't necessarily make a good _hunter_. The man just can't investigate," she sighed with a hint of annoyance, chuckling to herself. "It's probably nothing and I'm thinking _way_ too much into it. I'm sure your mom got in touch with Lenore and that's why we're heading back but I thought this was weird to begin with. I _never_ get sent for these kind of cases. I'm not as high up on the ranking. Usually, Lenore, Gwen or Abby would get these kind of cases--"

"Well, all of them were busy, and my mom...well, you know. I know she's not enjoying her indefinite vacation. Maybe you're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe is a good thing. I mean, they asked you to take on a major case. You're an excellent hunter," he smirked, glancing over to her. She didn't crack a smile.

"That's another thing; they let me bring _you_. That usually doesn't happen."

"Ok," he pondered aloud. "So what do you think that means?"

"One, that those deaths were nest involved and two--I think something fishy is going on there. Not just at the scene but at the nest. I've been thinking that ever since Abby got pushed aside. I'm not sure of what is going on but there's definitely something."

He hadn't thought of it that way, but that could be from the fact that he was still relativity new to the nest's way of operating. Well, he was new to the whole communal set up. It was a very supernatural precursor to dorm room living.

Lenore had filled him in on everything he needed to know to survive and keep up his terms of punishment while living at the compound. Otherwise, the way it all worked was still mostly a mystery. New people and vampires arrived daily and left just as quickly as they would show up. Others were standard residents who mingled and coexisted with in the business like feel of the joint.

Then there was Sonora.

She lived there, mostly keeping to herself. He rarely saw her except for the mandatory, daily training sessions. It was during those times and their assigned hunts that her double persona emerged. She was radiant and explosive, a firecracker who was all business. Strange, but the girl sitting next to him in the driver seat was the one he feared; it was why she cloistered herself up in her room.

Dylan could understand why someone would want to do that. Hell, he was the poster child of solitude as of late, but, he had a reason.

Every night, he had _her_ in his dreams. Becky, screaming, crying in her coffin, begging to get out, her fangs extending as she pounded on the surface of her tomb.

Those haunting images, compounded with lack of sleep, would surely drive anyone to madness and loneliness. For, who would want to deal with him? Hell, he didn't want to deal with his own shit, let alone let anyone else in on it.

Sonora had that vibe emanating from her. What they were speaking of, regarding their current flight from Iowa, wasn't the only thing dragging her down. No, there was something else. It was the same thing that was keeping her up in her dorm. It was the reason for her silence. Something deeper and the reason her dynamic self was a myth. The quiet woman beside him was the true Sonora and he was going to figure out who she really was.

* * *

Abby decided it best to drive home. She needed something to keep her mind off everything that was going on. Besides the issue with Dylan, there were the problems regarding the night before and top that off with the time ticking away in her head. Yep, that would pretty much drive the sanest of people fucking batty.

Dean was quiet in the passenger seat, checking his phone for any news on Dylan. Sam hadn't heard anything new but was keeping his ears open.

Her mind was a mess, filled with questions yet answered.

As hard as it was, she could understand why these fiends would threaten and harm her family to get what they wanted. What she couldn't figure out was why would the people after her be killing random people from the nest? That didn't make a lick of sense. Hardly anyone knew the real reason of why Jo and Ellen were killed. Hell, _she_ didn't even know all the intentions of whoever it was after her. What she needed to do is try to piece it all together. First she needed to figure out all the players.

Obviously, her first piece was Hannah. Abby didn't believe the tramp was the mastermind; she probably wasn't any more than a messenger. There was one way she was mentally capable of plotting something so intricate. What they knew for sure, was Hannah had made a deal with a Crossroad's Demon to gain access to Dean in her insane plan to win his affection...but why didn't they take her soul? Why, through that, did she get involved with something as deep and ominous of what was currently going on? The girl may be a bitch but she was a naive one.

There was someone more powerful pulling all the strings; someone way above and it must have been someone who knew her, even if she didn't know it. From her newly discovered memory of the past, she had an inkling of who it could be. But, could it be possible? Why would anyone that hated her mother in England stay after her parents were killed? They were now after her for some evil purpose; that was all she knew for sure.

What she felt unnerved of the most was the mere fact those murderers that killed her parents in cold blood, torturing them and letting them finally die by the flame, may have been following her whole life. Certainly, whoever the person or thing was, it was someone who knew all about her past. It was someone who knew her mother.

Her heart suddenly yearned for her mother. If only she could speak with her in that moment, find some answers or some comfort in her arms.

God, over 300 years old and she was still praying to have her mom at her side.

There was another little tidbit that was nagging her. Why would the members of the nest be involved? It wasn't as if she herself knew everyone involved in the mess. It was huge and complex system of people; there was no way she could know everyone that lived their or worked for them.

Why kill people from the nest anyway unless...unless they had figured out something was going on. How in the blue hell would they even get close to finding something out.? Did they just randomly stumble into something that they shouldn't have or was it something more sinister?

Abby was trying to decode all that she knew of the situation, and it would be much easier if she could get Dean's take on it all. She knew if she mentioned anything, he was going to worry and start thinking more about the past few days. If there was one person who could snap the puzzle together and finish the picture, it was Dean.

The only thing she didn't doubt or question was the fact that it all began and ended with her. She was the only reason why her family was being terrorized.

Her mind suddenly came to a point that she hadn't realized before; who would know her family history to that long extent? The only people who know the story about her mother's flee from her home in Europe with her father were either dead, her immediate family...and Lenore and Gwen.

A cold chill ran straight through her.

Could someone from the nest be involved? Wouldn't it make sense? Whoever dropped off the letters knew where she lived and had, apparently, known about her movements for quite sometime. They knew of her involvement.

Was there a leak at the nest? And if so, who was responsible?

Gwen couldn't be...could she? No, she was at the dance and seemed just as shocked as the rest of them did at the developments. Perhaps that was just a cover. Maybe she did have something to do with it.

Her stomach twisted at the possibility. Could her 'friends' truly be involved in her take down for years? _Years_?

Abby gunned the engine.

"Hey, hey, I know she's a beast but take it easy," Dean grumbled. "She ain't as young as she used to be."

Stay calm, she reminded herself. It's Dean, if he senses your stressed more than you should be...

"Want me to drive," he asked, glancing over at her as he fiddled with his cellphone.

"No, I'm good," she said with a smile. "Just getting out my anger with Lenore with a little road rage."

Dean chuckled and continued flipping through the contacts. What was he doing? He had seemed concentrated on the contents of his phone for sometime, a look of contemplation on his face, his fingers skimming over one key in particular.

She glanced over quickly and saw what he was up to: he was deleting Ellen and Jo's phone numbers.

The list of the people they could trust and depend on was getting smaller and smaller daily. Now, she wasn't even sure if some of her closest confidants were reliable. Tomorrow, there may be two or more to remove from the list, amongst other things, permanently.

Abby wished she could pick Dean's brain on the issue. He probably was thinking something similar. After all, why would Lenore send Dylan out? Nothing seemed to be adding up at all.

"He's going to be ok, you know," Dean said.

"Pardon," she said, for a split second wondering if he could now read her mind.

"Dylan. He's a strong kid. He's going to be just fine. After all, he's made it this far, right?"

He flashed her a forced smile.

'_I know,' _she thought, convinced by her own inner voice. However, it wasn't her son's strength or dependability that was disturbing her.

She had a lot to think about before her time with her family was up. There was indeed a lot to do. Yet, she'd known that for a long time. James had been warning her, preparing her, for the current situation for months on end. Strange how it felt so unexpected even with all the forewarning.

Abby now realized what she had to accomplish in the next month: One, she had to find out who was squealing information to whatever organization was after her and end it. Two, she had to _try_ to find a way to get out of her deal. Three, if it really, truly, came down to her having to leave them all behind, she had plenty of things that needed to get in order before she would be gone.

* * *

April was still curled up in bed. Her hair was a mess of tangles and stiff hairspray. She probably looked completely strung out. It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

After finally realizing her feelings for _him_...he was gone.

Just like that.

Snap.

Her body didn't move and she didn't dare raise the covers over her head. What was the point?

Why see the light of day?

Was she being over dramatic? Perhaps, but she had never, ever felt that kind of pain before. It was a deep ache that burned her body. It was pulsing about her full of regret, love and shame. She was _ashamed_ of being the one that he would risk himself for. It just didn't make sense.

Besides her mom, who else could understand this pain?

Her uncle knew for sure. Hell, he had even had to go through the agony of watching Jessica burn away, exploding into flames just as his mother had done years before. He too had felt as if he had to purposed this burden onto her. He had seen it before he knew it would happen, much like April had seen in her dreams. She may not have seen the result of the confrontation between herself and Wes, but she did know that she had foreseen it. Too bad it was after the fact.

She would talk to Sam about it when she felt she could. After all, Sam had loved Jess; he loved Jessica to the point where he was going to marry her.

April didn't even have the chance with...

She needed to talk with someone about what she was feeling, or not feeling as it were. Numbness was the best way to describe it.

At first, it seemed cliché to say. Isn't that what all victims say, that they were numb? However, now that she was herself feeling it first hand, that's _exactly_ what it was. Someone could come into her room and set her on fire and she would not feel a lick of the flame nor would she care.

Her tears started to come when she thought of Jesse, him feeling anger and rage all the while trying to protect her. She knew that he did truly lose his brother. Even though the two had their issues in the past, Jesse could now look past them and really understand Wesley. He knew what Wes would have wanted and Jesse would die for it.

After all, hadn't they all made so many mistakes in the past?

God, if she wallowed in her own shit for too much longer, she was going to go absolutely fucking insane.

Not lifting the cloak of the blanket from her, she maneuvered her hand out of its confines, finding the shape of her cellphone on the nightstand.

If there was one person who felt the agony and guilt of being the reason someone had died...

"Dyl? Yeah, it's me...do you mind if we talk for a few," she started before breaking down.

* * *

"Don't you touch her," she screamed. "Let her GO!"

Shrieks of pain. Agony. Despair.

"_NO!"_

Sam shot out of bed in protest, breaking the hold of the dream.

"Sam, Sam are you alright," Ruby sat up next to him, rubbing his back in small, soothing circles.

"Yeah. Yeah," he replied running his hands over his face. "Bad dream that's all."

"Just a dream," she smiled, kissing his forehead. "Go to bed. If you want to talk, just give me a nudge, alright?"

He nodded, kissing her cheek and giving her swelling stomach a bit of a rub.

'_Sorry to wake you, baby,' _he thought, hoping that both the kid and Ruby could get some sleep after his start.

He rested his head against the pillow trying not to think about his nightmare. So many of them had gotten hurt in his dream.

Thanks god it was just a dream...right?

That's all it could be. He knew that. Hell, he hadn't had a vision for over ten years.

Even still, the sheer reality of it all was eating away at his consciousness.

It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. And, if it wasn't, they were all royally screwed.


	33. Long, Long Way From Home

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

Two weeks left and she had found nothing but dead ends. One lead after the other led to absolutely nothing. She was beginning to feel weak by the strain, the toll on her time constraints coming due.

Between her sleuthing with the help of Jesse to find out who was behind everything and find out how to stop it, she had been spending all her spare time with her family. She needed to know that once she left that she had imparted some deeper knowledge unto them. After all, she didn't know what her future would hold once the fiends after her got their way...or what she would become.

She let April know everything she knew about makeup, dressing and customs, letting her know how to dress herself for any occasion. April now had a smoky eye down pat. But, if she were to continue hunting for whatever reason, those were skills she needed to know. She would need to know how to adapt for any situation, how to become anyone she would want to be. After all, she herself had pulled off being an exotic dancer by night and a high-class heiress by day once. If _she _could do that, April sure as hell could.

Lenore had been kind enough to allow her to visit Dylan. They had been brief meetings with her son, but they absolutly meant the world to her. It was always short and sweet. She kept him up on what was going on with the family. The everday shenanigans always made him laugh a little, which was something she missed so very much at home. Overall, they just hung out and enjoyed each other's company until he was put to work again. Although, she did find one thing curious; it was how he talked about a certain fighting instructor.

"She's good, ma, _really _good. You should see how quick she is," he smiled. "I swear, everyday, she finds a way to surprise me and knock me on my ass."

"That's good. Good. You need a girl who can kick your ass around," Abby smirked.

There was a mixture of happiness and confusion when he mentioned the girl, Sonora. She wondered what it might lead to if anything. Maybe she'd be around to see her son happy once more.

"I love you, ma," he'd say at the end of every visit, while giving her a firm hug. "And, I'm sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Abby would adamately reply. After all, much of it was _her _fault. If only should would have explained things about her true nature earlier, perhaps things might have been different.

As for Jamie, she wasn't sure what she could do for him. Regardless of how she felt about telling her elder children about their heritage, she certaintly didn't think Jamie was quite ready for it yet. Perhaps he would need another year or two; just a few more years of innocence before he discovered the secret carried in his blood. So, she did what she could; she went to everyone one of baseball games, taking lots of photos. She taught him how to horseback ride and even taught him to surf in a huge indoor wavepool. Abby wanted him to learn things she enjoyed and maybe if she was never allowed to come home, he could find comfort in the things that they did together;just the two of them.

Abby sat across from Dean at the kitchen table, sliding an envelope across it's surface to him.

"For you," she said, a playful smile on her lips.

He looked at her questioningly, wondering what-in-the-blue-hell could be in the envelope.

"What are you waiting for, open it, moron," she joked, pushing it closer to her husband.

He put down his beer and picked up the manila package. He scanned the outside for clues to the inside, even going as far to shake it like it was a present Christmas morning.

She couldn't help but smile. After all, he was going to love it.

Dean tore the side open, not bothering with the easily opened clasp at the top. Reaching in, he pulled out a set of papers and photos. Attached was a small note.

_My dearest Dean,_

_This is so you can finally get a chance to relax and fish when you want to. I have my escape in St. Augustine, now you have one as well. _

_Thank you for being here._

_All My Love Forever,_

_Abigail_

He didn't know what to say as he looked through the documents.

"This is...is this what I think it is," he helped up a photo of a cabin on a majestic lake with it's own private dock.

"It's exactly what you are thinking," she smiled.

"Ab, this is--this is too much." He stroked his face from his forehead to his chin.

"Dean, need I remind you that I have amassed a small fortune over my life. You're my partner in crime; I _want _to give this to you. I want you to enjoy it and get away when you want to."

Dean Winchester was, for once in a long time, really rendered speechless. He skimmed through the contents, the maps of the area and lake, along with the deed written out solely in his name.

"What is that smaller cabin in the back," he held up, pointing to the photo.

"Well that," she smirked, getting up to sit in his lap. "That's our little private piece of property. If we ever bring the kids or anyone else along with us, we stay in our little shack all alone...in complete privacy."

"I am totally diggin' that," he smiled, pulling her lips to his own.

The kiss was surpringly soft and very sweet. It always made her wonder how he could give her everything all at once. She was used to men having varying degrees of kisses to express how they felt. With Dean, one small, briefest kiss was filled with all he felt for her. Her heart would burst if she let it all in at once. That, or she was going to cry. She could NOT lose what she had with him. It was the only happiness she had found in her long life.

"Read the last page," she whispered against his lips.

He laughed, pulling her onto one leg to read the scribbles.

"Get dressed? Boat leaves in 20," he looked at her in confusion.

"We're taking a road trip. The whole family...sans Dylan. They wouldn't let him out, but the rest of us are going today. Right now."

"Who is all of us? Kids and..."

"Sam, Ruby...and Gwen and Cas," she added. He raised his eyebrows. "Hey, they all are going to stay in the big cabin while we are in our private piece of heaven."

He wasn't completely caught off guard by the admission of Gwen and Cas into the mix. After all, she could tell he wasn't trusting most people close to them as of late. He was catching on. His hunter sense was tingling.

Abby had found out during her own surveillance that Gwen was not involved in anything malicious; she was being true. There was absolutely nothing that Abby could find that would find Gwen be the person giving away pertinent information. After all, Gwen knew people were after her mother, but she had genuinely been confused by the symbol on the envelopes when they were revealed. It wasn't a guess, she had _felt _it. Gwen's distress pinched at her mind at the same time as everyone else's that night. Every person who had been in the room that particular night was being honest.

That only left one other person, whom she was having Gwen keep a close eye on at the nest.

So far, her vampire confidant had not found anything unusual or incriminating. She promised to keep looking.

"Get up," she poked Dean in the side. "Go get packed. Me, you and the kids will be in the Impala."

"Just like old times," he smirked.

"I know you like family road trips, Clark Griswold."

"Nothin' like a long trek in the family truckster," he cribbed a line from one of his favorite movies, giving her a nudge to get off his lap.

He was smiling that adorable grin as he headed upstairs to get his things from the bedroom. She didn't pack for him; it was one thing he liked to do. It reminded him of being a kid, on the road with his brother and father.

Was planning a trip this close to the deadline smart or appropriate? Perhaps, perhaps not, but she was going to make sure she made some damn good memories with her family if she were forced to leave. If she was forced to protect them.

Goddamn it, if she were going to leave, she was going to get as far away from the nest as possible. Maybe they wouldn't look for her. Maybe, in her solitude, she could find an answer to her problem.

Either way, Wisconsin better be ready for the Winchesters.

* * *

Sam parked his SUV behind the Impala, having arrived to caravan with his brother and family to northern Wisconsin. It was really sweet of Abby to buy the place that she did. After all, Dean had wanted a a rustic place like that for a hell of a long time.

He remembered Dean telling him once that he dreamed of it when they were resting during hunts; just sitting on some lonesome dock, leaning back and drinking a beer, waiting for a fish to bite.

"So, that's all you were doing," Sam would ask. "Just sitting on your ass waiting for fish? Sounds boring."

"Nah, it wasn't boring at all," Dean used to reply. "It was calm and quiet...and there was nothing bad. There was no end of the world. There was just...peace."

When he put it that way, it did sound pretty awesome.

He parked the car, putting it in park, before turning to Ruby in the passenger seat. She was a little green. Apparently, pregnancy and long road trips did not go hand-in-hand.

"Maybe Gwen can give me some witchy remedy or something," she sighed, her eyes closed and her head against the headrest.

"Well, she just pulled up with Cas. Ask her while he puts the bags in the car, ok," Sam smiled at her. He pushed the armrest out of the way and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I'll be right back. Look, Gwen is already on her way over."

Ruby smiled and waved her over to the car.

Sam got out, hoping that Gwen really did have something to make his wife more comfortable. After all, it would be a long drive, even longer if Ruby was sick the entire time.

He shuffled up the driveway, hands in his pockets. She was alone out front, packing the trunk of the Impala with the family's luggage. Good.

"Hey," he said.

He was surprised at how she responded, spinning around at vampire speed.

"Geez, Sam," she shouted. "Don't sneak up on me! I'm--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak out. I've just been a little..."

"Jumpy? Yeah, I gathered," he sighed. He'd been meaning to speak with Abby for a while now. Those dreams he was having weren't letting up and he had to admit, it was starting to scare the shit out of him.

In the dream, he was in the dark. Sam couldn't see a goddamn thing. However, he could hear everything that was going on around him. He could not get the screams out of his head. The piercing shrieks of pain, the pleading, begging for it to stop.

It just seemed too coincidental, too familiar.

But, how to bring it up without seeming like he got his evil mojo powers back? He had no fucking clue why he was having those kind of dreams again.

"Can I ask you something," he approached with caution.

"Sure, you're my brother-in-law. What's on your mind, Sam," she turned towards him with a smile, her hands on her hips.

"Ab, is everything ok with you?"

"Why do you ask," she said, quickly turning back to her work in the car.

"I don't know, just a feeling I guess," Sam grinned. "Look," he said, twisting her back around to him. "I know you well enough to know when you're not feeling ok."

"What, and Dean doesn't," she whispered, checking around to see if her husband was anywhere around.

"Not this way. He wasn't around before, when he was...you know. And we were...you know."

She looked at him with steely dark eyes.

"Sam, what exactly are you implying," she asked accusingly.

"It's--it's nothing. I don't know, I guess I've been having so long since I've had dreams that seemed so...real."

Abby turned to him and smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

"Sam, hun, did it ever occur to you that you're stressed and that your wife is having a baby? Of course you are going to have weird ass dreams that don't make sense. I think you guys need a vaca just as much as we do. I really do appreciate you guys deciding to take up my offer to come with us."

He sighed, feeling idiotic for even approaching her with anything. She was right, he was super stressed about Ruby and the baby. That would probably make anyone a little crazed. But even still, he was glad he had asked her. You know, just in case.

Abby rarely lied to anyone, at least that he knew of, but he just had this sharp feeling that if she were--

He shook his head and told Abby he was going to get back to helping Cas get his and Gwen's things into Sam's SUV. Instead of caravanning, they were going to carpool. Ruby's idea. Sam couldn't help but think it was going to be a very long road trip.

* * *

She laid her head on the headrest, groaning in annoyance.

God, it was going to be a long...how long was it going to take to go to this cabin?

"Seven hours," Jamie said matter-of-factly after putting the data into the GPS.

Seven-frickin-hours? Dear Lord! How was she ever going to survive it? Two parents, one younger sibling, one car and seven hours of loud rock?

The rock, she could handle, but the rest...uggh!

Maybe she was being a spoiled brat, but she just had a terrible few weeks. Actually, terrible didn't really quite cover it.

Since the incident on Prom night, she was having a slew of troubles. Trouble thinking. Trouble sleeping. Trouble breathing. On top of that, she was having a damned time telling Jesse to back-the-fuck-off.

Is seemed that every single time she turned around, he was there. One thing to his credit, he wasn't being exactly pushy; he was literally just keeping an eye on her. Was it out of guilt; a promise to a late friend? Didn't he realize that her mother was doing the same thing, keeping her eyes focused on her movement like a hawk? Her dad was probably doing the same thing, just more discreetly. Her father knew she would resent the extra attention on her. Even still, she was positive that he was secretly being extra attentive.

April hoped her sunglasses hid her puffiness. Between the lack of a good night's sleep and the purple signs of depression ringing around her eyes, she was sure it would shock her parents at how bad she truly was.

'_All this over a stupid boy,'_ she scolded herself. _'Over a stupid fucking boy that treated you like shit...and saved your life not just once, but a few times.'_

"April," Jamie asked. She twisted her head towards her younger brother, who was looking at her with concern. "If you want to sleep for a while, do you want to borrow my pillow?"

She smiled at her sweet little brother.

"Sure. Thanks, kid," she took hold of the cushion he tossed to her. He promised to let her sleep and not bug her.

Jamie was such a nice brother to have; never caused any problems. It was like he was born with this peace around him. Even in any down state she found herself in, her brother had a way of lifting all that away. His innocence and joy were contagious.

April leaned her head against the soft pillow as her dad gunned the engine. They were off.

* * *

Dean looked at his rearview mirror, angling it so he could see the backseat; both of the kids were napping. Granted, they were bigger than they used to be, but it brought back some good memories them when they were little. Time sure moved fast, didn't it?

Abby was right, a vacation was exactly what they needed; all of them need it. A little R and R, a little fishin', a little drinking. It was going to be great.

He turned to look at Abby, who was writing in a blue velvet notebook. Was she writing in her damn journal again?

He was surprised by the fact that she decided to pick up her journal after abandoning the practice some years back. She literally had it gathering dust on the nightstand up until a few nights before. After that, she had it with her at all times, sometimes putting it down, only to pick it up and jot stuff down in it.

She'd allowed him to see it years before. It was a collection of writings dating back to her teen days in the 1700s through about the 2000s. Many of the pages were reminiscent of his own father's journal; a mixture of the personal and the occult. It had gone from the innocent ramblings of a teenage girl to those of a seasoned hunter. The last entry that he had seen before her current writing spree was right before her brother's death. He could only imagine what she decided was so important to put in there.

Only one way to find out.

"Whatcha writing," he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Nothing much," she shrugged. "It's just been a while. There was a lot to update on my current life's work."

Silence.

"Is my loud scribbling bothering you, hun," she asked.

"No, no. I was just curious. I can't remember the last time you opened it is all," Dean said, trying hard to not make it a big deal.

Silence.

"It's nothing important," she finally replied. "You want to look?"

Damn reverse psychology.

"No, I trust that if it was something important, you'd let me know," he smirked.

Score reverse psychology.

She opened the book again and started to write. He switched his cassette tape from Metallica to Boston.

* * *

_Two weeks. Hard to believe. I'm having trouble sleeping. I've been staying up all blocking my thoughts, getting extra herbs from Jesse, so I can try to break this deal they have over me. Night after night of dead-ended research. A deep history that reveals absolutely nothing. What did my mom do that my family has to suffer? And, the age-old adage: why me? The story starts and ends in St. Augustine. It seemed my mother meant to bury the past, forget it. Yet, it may not have forgotten her._

_My eyes burn and, much like the others, I am struggling to be coherent as I write this entry. I can't bear the thought that these are the last weeks I'll have with you all if I cannot discover my mother's past. My heart. My love._

_April, I know you have every right to be upset as you read this, knowing that I knew of my departure for a whole month, keeping it from you. If it's any consolation, I think I'll be alive. They __need__ me for something and not just my blood. If it was that, if it was all about making me a sacrifice, I can guarantee I'd be dead right now. After all, if they had me cornered that night at the Prom, I would have been dead. No question. No, it's something else. What awaits me, I'm not sure yet. _

_My dearest daughter, this journal is yours now. I am leaving you in charge of this secret. It's up to you if you would like to reveal this information to your father. I don't have the heart. Every minute that I lie to him, keeping this secret close, I betray him. We did our best to stay truthful and our marriage open with full disclosure. Our ups and downs, we celebrated our triumphs and commiserated with our failures; we were each other's support beam. And now? I am writing to you about my greatest failing as he drives right next to me._

_Sweet girl, I will stop with that now. Hate me if you will for lying to all of you, but just know that when I must leave....if I must leave, my heart stays with you all. I love you. Just remember that of me, even if it is mingled with resentment. Just know that I love you all and, wherever I will be, I will be loving you all the same._

"Restroom and food break," Dean clapped, jerking her out of her writing trance. "Everyone off the bus."

The yawns from the backseat signaled that her children were awake. Abby snapped her book shut, placing it securely in her purse.

"God, a _diner_," April whined. "Really?! We couldn't stop _anywhere_ with a name that I know of or at least one that didn't advertise a 24-hour buffet?"

"You are not my daughter," Dean joked, stretching next to the car.

"Well I didn't say I wasn't going to eat," she smirked, jabbing her dad playfully in the side. "I _am_ your daughter after all, which equates to I'm always starving."

"That's my girl. I don't even have to ask Jamie, he's already getting us a table."

Dean turned and smiled at Abby, titling his head, gesturing towards the restaurant.

"You comin'," he asked.

"Yeah," she said, gathering herself out of her thoughts.

A quick blur to her right set her off. It was far enough in the woods that Dean wasn't able to detect it, but it was there. A vampire.

"I'll catch up, I'm just going to take a look at the gift shop," she pointed to the adjoining building. "Could you just get me an iced tea or something?"

Dean walked around the car and pulled her to him.

"Sure thing," he said before kissing her. "Don't be too long." He lightly slapped her rear as he left, giving her a little wink as he made his way into the diner.

Oh boy. Even with a little tap like that, Dean had a gift. He could literally turn a simple gesture of flirting into foreplay. God help them.

Focus. Focus.

She dropped her shield a little, reaching her mind out to the vampire nearby.

'_It's me.'_

Abby didn't reply. She replace her shield, placing more herbs in her protective necklace, as she entered the gift shop. She made her way discreetly through the store, all the while making her way all the way back to the store. He was already standing there.

"Jesse," she whispered. "I knew you weren't far behind, but we need to make our meetings scarce."

"I know, but this is important. I have found some interesting news. Hannah has been turned away. "

"Really," she whispered. "Why?"

"For all her work, she was promised something--"

"One thing in particular; Dean."

A familiar voice came from the shadows. She was almost unrecognizable in the black hoodie and dark shades. Even still, she could see a small tendril of blonde sticking out from under the ebony fabric.

"Why did you bring her hear," Abby spat, venom clearly in her voice.

"I have something to bring you," Hannah announced.

"I've got two weeks," Abby answered in a whisper, feeling her body tensing at the mere fact that the girl was in her presence. The one who had doomed her to her impending existence.

"Abby, she's been cast out. I've made sure that she's not here to cause any harm," Jesse said.

"What does she _want_," Abby spoke directly to Jesse, never taking her eyes off of the young woman.

"She kept bothering me that she needed to speak with you..."

"So, you lead her right to where my family and I would be safe--"

"No," Hannah chimed in. "I sent them the wrong way. You're safe for a while. And, if anyone is going to get punished for this it's me, not you."

The girl lowered her glasses, looking Abby right in the eyes.

"Look, they fucked me over, ok? So, I returned the favor. I may hate you but I hate them more. Plus, I needed to bring you this," she said, elbowing Jesse in the side. He sighed at her annoying persistence, handing Abby a dark velvet satchel. "I stole it from the elders. I thought it may give you some answers."

Abby gingerly took the aged, burgandy velvet bag from the vampire's hands, unfastening the gold cords tying it securely at the top. She opened it carefully, taking a quick peek inside.

A book?

"Did you look at this yet," Abby asked both of them.

"I did," Jesse replied. "I honestly can't make head or tales of it. It's all...encoded."

Abby slowly unfolded it, quickly flipping through the pages. It was written in code and it was code Abby was familiar with...very famiiliar with. She remembered that time around when she was first poisoned by the sun, where her mom took her by the hand and taught her their own special language.

"It's our little secret, Abigail," she had excitedly whispered. "Keep this in your heart and mind. You may need to talk to me one day without anyone else being aware of the words. Please remember this."

And, she had.

"Abby?"

_Dean_. He was at the front of the store with Sam, who must have also decided to stop to get some food.

"Babe, are you done shoppin'? The food is up!"

"Go," Abby demanded the vampire and fugitive.

"But, I've got a lot more to tell you," Hannah squirmed while Jesse tugged on her arm.

"Then we'll meet. Tonight. I'll get my family settled in and then we'll meet at a bar two towns over. I'll make up some excuse. Are you sure no one followed you?"

"Nope, I sent them in the wrong direction," Hannah smirked. "I'm tricky like that."

She certaintly was.

"Go," Abby hissed.

Jesse picked Hannah up and blurred out the back door.

Abby stuffed the book, her mother's book, in her purse next to her own before turning around, grabbing a magazine to her right as she spun.

"I'm done," she said causually. "Just wanted something to read in the car. Let's go."

As she paid for the magazine at the register, her stomach did flip flops as her mind wondered what was hidden in the contents of her mother's book and what Hannah knew about her past. In only a few short hours, she was going to get some answers and have to deceive Dean...again.

* * *

_** AUTHOR'S NOTE: CHECK OUT MY PROFILE FOR PROM PHOTOS!**_


	34. Beneath, Between, Behind

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers._

"This place is amazing," April's voice echoed as she twirled around in the central space, dropping her bags on the floor.

She stood in what had to be the great room, gazing up at the high, vaulted ceilings covered with exposed wooden beams. The walls were made of actual whole logs, giving the space the complete rustic package. The furniture was visually in contrast; modern edges mixed with comfort. Her mother must have had her hand in decorating the new joint. Just like her, they were traditional meshed with contemporary. Her ancestral side was in full force as the family pictures were already displayed on the mantel of the heavily stoned fireplace.

"I call the loft," Jamie yelled as he darted up the metal staircase.

"Well, that's all that's left anyway," Sam said, stretching his arms as he left the confines of the main bedroom, closing the door behind him. "Sorry, hun, but we get the big bedroom. Ruby needs the bigger bed to sleep well. Believe me, this setup is better for all of us."

"And _we_ need a door that locks," Gwen smiled, nudging Cas in the side. He sheepishly grinned back at his girlfriend.

"Eww, gross," April gagged.

"Whatever, missy," Gwen stuck her tongue out. "You get to go up in the loft with your bro. Oh and don't roll your eyes at me, young lady! There are two queen sized beds up there and you guys will have you own bathroom. You'll just have to make due."

April picked up her bags and lugged them up the stairs into the loft. Jamie was already seated Indian-style on his bed, unpacking his clothes and video games.

"We have our own TV, April," he smiled, hooking up his blu-ray player to the flat screen.

"Gr-eat," she said, trying to feign enthusiasm. "I hope you don't plan on watching it all hours of the night..."

"A.C., it's vacation," he smirked. "After I get all this schoolwork done for the two weeks we miss and study for finals, I'm FREE."

April wished she had the same option. Unlike most of her friends who were going to be graduating on time that year, she was stuck going to finish off her high school years at summer school. Guess that's how the life of a hunting family went. Even Dean said it took him 5 years just to get his G.E.D.

"Well, I guess since it is, vacation," she chortled, tossing her bags into her own closet.

She threw herself on the bed, hands behind her head and stretched. Man, did it feel good to spread out after being in that car for so long. It wasn't that the Impala wasn't roomy; it was a nice big car. The personal space in the vehicle was a different story.

_Yawn._

Great, the first day of her one actual vacation that year and all she wanted to do was lay down and rest. Maybe just a little nap was all she would need to perk up.

Her eyes got heavy and she found that everything was getting quieter. Darker. Darker. Darker. Nothing.

The void suddenly began to glimmer, iridescent blue tinted light bouncing off of a dewy field. She looked down, finding herself dressed in a long, plaid dress with a large hoop skirt.

As she was contemplating why in the blue hell she'd be wearing an ancient, unflattering dress, She saw him in the distance. He was facing away, staring off into the mist of the other direction.

"Wes," she yelled, her foot stepping closer to him on their own.

No response.

"Wes?"

She ran towards him, her dress getting snagged and torn on the various plants and weeds in the field.

As she raced to him, he stirred and started to fade off into the distance.

"Wes, please! I need to speak with you," she pleaded.

Gone.

"He's not really here you know," a voice promptly spoke to her right.

She spun around to find Jesse casually leaning against a tree draped in Spanish moss. He was dressed in what she could only assume was his Civil War uniform.

"What are _you_ doing here," April asked, feeling slightly violated by Jesse's unannounced intrusion into her dream.

"I'll be brief, but it's important that I speak with you, and this is the easiest and safest way to do just that. And, I'm not upset that you were thinking of Wes if that's what you had in mind. May I ask why you put together a dream with a historical backdrop," he asked, looking down at his uniform.

She shrugged, admitting they she may have been thinking about their past story, particularly regard the incident with Jenny.

"I've had this crazy thought that, maybe-maybe if I were there, maybe he would have never..."

"Gone crazy? Bit Jenny? Changed her? There's no reason to think that way, April," Jesse sighed. "What's done is done. He made his choice...we both did. We didn't have to make that deal to save her but we did. I wanted to save my sister too, but even still...turns out it wasn't worth it. A sweetie as a human, an insane bitch as a vampire. Neither of us saw it comin'."

Jesse took a step forward, his hands casually in his pockets. He looked through his light strands, his aqua eyes reflecting the blue light surrounding them.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this. If I would have known, I would have never agreed to investigate you; I would have rather been put to death...and that's the honest-to-god-truth."

April ran her hands through her hair, walking closer to her vampire friend.

"How are _you_ holding up with all of this," she asked him.

"I-I don't know. Besides Jenny, he was the last person from my past that was left. I'm finally...alone. I guess, I feel like keeping an eye on you keeps him close. You know," he sighed, sadness filling his eyes.

She nodded. She understood and yet she couldn't even imagine. Your only companion for that many years, your last link to your past-gone.

"Well, I appreciate you looking out for me," April smiled. She wrapped her arms around herself, her bare arms feeling chilled even in her dreams.

Jesse blurred to her side and placed his grey military jacket on her shoulders.

"I hope that's alright that I...," he stammered.

"No, no. You're ok," she sighed. Then, she leaned into his side. His hand gently caressed her covered arm, tracing the worn pattern in the stitching. "We'll be ok, right?"

"Yes. Yes, we'll be ok...eventually. Thank you, Jesse."

"No, thank you."

* * *

Sam stood on the porch, leaning against the wooden railing, staring out onto the clear lake. It really was beautiful and relaxing. Crash.

So much for relaxing.

"Give it back, Jamie!"

"Here," followed by a small bang. "I didn't mean to read it! I thought it was just a book! I'm sorry," he yelled back.

"Just stay out of my stuff," April screamed before huffing down the stairs and out the door.

Jamie remained silent from upstairs. He was a good kid and Sam was sure that he really didn't mean to do whatever he did.

"Hey, J, could you come here," Sam called from the porch.

He heard the young teen plop down the stairs, dragging his feet towards the wooden deck.

Jamie mimicked Sam's pose, leaning against the mahogany railing.

"Yeah," he groaned.

"Nothing. You ok," Sam said.

"Fine," his nephew huffed.

Wow. His demeanor really was genetic. Jamie was his total little twin.

"It's just, gah," Jamie twisted around, throwing his back against the wooden railing. Sam spun around, leaning on his hands. "Uncle Sammy, I accidentally read some of her diary."

"Ouch. You're lucky to get out alive, kid. Never read someone else's journal...especially a girl's," he nudged his nephew in the arm.

"I didn't mean to. I just thought it was a book she brought to read so I thought I'd read it. I wouldn't do that to her. Look, I try to be a good brother. I really do and it's not easy when you've got siblings like mine."

Sam was taken off guard by Jamie's tone and choice of words. What could he possibly mean by that; siblings like his?

"Look, they're older than me; way older. I feel like all they do is try to...I don't know, boss me around. Like there's stuff that the know that they don't want me to know. I ask and the only answer I get is to back off."

Well, that certainly rang a bell. Sam himself had gone through the similar thing as a boy. Dean did everything possible to keep his younger brother away from the truth of their family life. And, when it did happen, when Sam did find out, it changed his life forever. Guess that was why Dean was so adamant that Sammy drop it whenever he probed for answers. And what did finding out get him? He grew up on the road, he could handle a shotgun by the time he was 10 years old; what kind of life was that? And, what did he do as soon as he could make his own decisions? He got himself emancipated and struck out on his own. Whether or not Dean believed that he screwed over his family, he had to do what he had to do.

What would Jamie do if he knew about his family? What, if Jamie knew; would he run away or would he embrace it? Which would be the better for him to do?

One sign that he would be ok was the fact that he was already seeing ghosts almost daily. The family never wrote him off. Sam told him how he would have dreams that would happen and let Jamie know clearly that being psychic was ok. Hell, he even seemed to embrace being psychic.

Sam had seen Jamie doing some research online about ghosts, so they started hanging out together watching shows on the paranormal. He had to laugh at some of the things those people had to say on television about the supernatural. But, regardless to how Abby and Dean felt about telling him the truth, Sam did let the one out in regards to ghosts.

He finally admitted to Jamie that they were real.

After that, Jamie and him shared a bond that no one else could touch. It was there little secret. Uncle to nephew….and, unbeknownst to Jamie, father to son. Truth be told, Sam was having a hard time differentiating that as of late. Jamie had been spending more time at his house than at Dean's.

Once the pizza was ordered, the two of them really got into their shows. Crap or not, it was something that they could do together; it was their own special way of hanging out together. His nephew even let him in on an even bigger secret. One particular evening, Jamie brought a tape of an EVP session he had done in his bedroom late at night. The kid was very much communicating with something-someone. That was with the new salt lines formulated around the permitter of the house. How he was communicating with spirits was supernatural in and of itself? He was turning out to be a very powerful tween.

"I just want my brother and sister to see me like...like you see me, Sam. You treat me like I'm not this little kid. I'm almost a teen, you know? I don't want them to think I'm just this lame kid anymore. It seems like you're the only one who gets it. You're the only who treats me like I have a say."

Sam turned towards him and patted him on the shoulder.

"You do have a say, Jamie. They'll have to see you do whether they like it or not. Don't be afraid to stick up for yourself with your sister. If it was an honest mistake, she'll get it or she won't."

"As soon as I read about some guy and how she 'missed him,' I totally just stopped reading. I don't want to get into any of that shit...I mean crap...I mean junk," he nervously giggled.

Sam laughed and told him that he won't tell his mom that he swore.

"Thanks," he said to Sam. "So, do you want to head down to the dock and maybe go fishing or something." He shrugged putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what to do up here."

"Me neither, kid," Sam laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, you head down to the dock and I'll meet you there in a minute. We could go on a boat ride. I just want to check on your aunt first."

Jamie headed out the door making his way down to their private dock.

Sam made good on his promise and checked in on Ruby. She was curled up on her side in the bed, sound asleep, the sheer drapes blowing in the breeze from the open window above her head. With a moan she rolled over to her other side readjusting her position in the bed. Poor thing was having a hell of a time comfortably sleeping lately.

Her bump was quite visible now. She was starting to feel the baby moving around. A girl. Sam was going to have a daughter. How the hell was he going to deal with it? How was he going to deal if she was born with...abilities.

He hadn't thought about it in a while, the fact this his children could have what was in his blood. The thought hadn't occurred to him until he started having his odd dreams again.

But, Jamie seemed relatively ok, right? He may be able to see ghosts, but who was to say that wasn't from his contact with the angels as a baby or genetics from his mother? It wasn't a bad thing. However, the stone cold fact was that Jamie had been born with demon blood in his veins. The angels had to exorcise it and watch him closely for any signs before he was returned home with his family. God only knows what would have occurred if his eyes would have flashed yellow. And that, what that poor, innocent little kid had to go through, was Sam's fault. True, Sam himself wasn't really involved with that baby's actual creator; it was that demon that had consumed him. It was the demon that made his eyes yellowed and made him do terrible, horrendous acts. At least, that was what he told himself to keep sane.

He still had nightmares, even when he was awake now, flashes of things he did. Glimpses of the moments when he hurt the people he loved most. Visions of him at his weakest. For, he was weak. If he hadn't have been so emotionally feeble, if he could have been stronger, if he had dealt with his temperament and kept it in check, perhaps he would have never turned. That was why what happened to Jamie was his fault. It was really his greatest crime. Sam's process of turning to the dark side started the day Dean sold his soul to save him. At that point, it was all a downward spiral.

Jamie had guidance and people looking out for him. He'd be ok, as long as everyone kept a vigilant eye on him. Sam had no doubt that the kid was only going to use his powers for good and be able to keep on the straight and narrow. But, would that be enough? He'd seen too many good people go bad by no fault of their own. Other hunters. The other psychic kids. Meg. Bobby's wife. Madison. There were too many good people that had been destroyed.

He couldn't let that happen to his little girl. He wouldn't let that happen to his son. He'd die before anything evil would ever put a hand on his children and that was a promise.

* * *

Dean stretched after changing his clothes. Abby and him took a while changing- a long while. A long hot while. It was quick and spontaneous, a little escapade in the shower before everyone would want to get together and have dinner. They took the chance to have a little intimate moment together, just the two of them. It was something that they didn't get a chance to do so often at home. Knock on the door. A yell from downstairs. A cellphone call about a case. There was always an interruption.

Admittedly, the pair had hurried in the shower. They didn't want to waste any time that they had. Together, they had lovingly got down to business, bringing each other to a sweaty ecstasy. Then, they needed a shower again.

"Babe, you comin' down to the dock," Dean said, pulling her back against his chest..

"No, no," she said, pulling her hair into a simple ponytail. "I think I'm going to go run to the store, grab some food and supplies for the cabins."

He kissed the side of her head.

"Alright. I'm gonna see if Sam and the boy want to go out on the boat. See you soon," he asked.

"Yeah. I'm not going far."

"Stay safe," he ordered. "Call if you need somethin, alright?"

She nodded, assuring him that she would be fine and if she wasn't, she'd let him know.

"Love you," he said, turning to leave the cabin and go down to the dock.

"Love you, too," she whispered.

* * *

Her legs were shaking as she watched Dean head out to the shore, the sun lowering behind the lake in the distance. Dusk. It was getting closer to night. With every movement of the sun, she was getting closer to answers. She wanted to sprint out to the car but stopped herself. The last thing she needed was to draw any attention to herself. That would not be good. She couldn't allow anyone to think that she was up to something.

Slowly, she grabbed her purse, made her way to the door. Cellphone in hand, she reached done and sent out a text message to Jesse. 'Now. Bar in Three Lakes.'

Abby kept her head down, searching her purse for keys. She had previously asked Sam if she could borrow his SUV to pick up groceries, saying she get more in his vehicles than the Impala. Not a ton of trunk space with most of that compartment being filled by ammo. He didn't mind one bit, hand her the keys without a problem. He said he trusted her. It was a joke. Of course he trusted her, but really-should he?

"Mom?"

Her keys slipped out of her purse, falling with a clank to the gravel driveway below.

Crap.

"I got it," April smiled, picking the keys up from the ground and handing them to her mom. "Where you headed?"

"To the store," she lied, hurriedly taking her keys, hoping to make it into the car before her daughter had the chance to ask...

"Mind if I go too?"

Damn. Too late.

"Sorry, April. Not now. I have a lot of places to run around to-"

"Yeah, but Mom I can help. Besides, it could be fun."

She was right; it would be fun if Abby wasn't flipping out from the added stress that her daughters request was putting on her.

"No, April. I'm sorry stay here."

"Mom, I really want to get aw-"

"Just go do something, all right," Abby snapped at her daughter.

April backed off, putting her arms up in defeat.

"Sorry, Mom," she spat as she walked in the other direction. "_My_ mistake. _I_ thought this was a _family_ vacation." Then Abby heard her mutter something that resembled witch, although she was sure what word she had actually used. If she wasn't in such a hurry to meet up with Jesse and Hannah, she would have definitely given her daughter a talking to about that one.

She gunned the engine and made her way towards Three Lakes and the truth.

* * *

April sat on her bed in the cabin loft. She brought her knees up to her chest, clinging to them with her arms. What happened to her life? Ever since she had found out about her heritage and made that initial step to become a vampire, her life had been turned upside. No one understood her anymore; not her dad, her little brother, her aunt, her uncle-and now her own mother? Was she just over exaggerating again? Maybe her mom had a good reason for telling her to stay behind. But, there was _something_ off about her mom recently. She only had to presume that it had to do with what happened at prom. Ever since that night, things had just been...different.

Who was there left to talk to after her mother just blatantly dissed her? Well, there was Gwen... maybe. She also seemed to have been keeping something from her. Everyone was except for Jesse. Ironically, he was the only one that been truthful with her.

Perhaps he was the only one she could rely on when she needed someone.

She picked up her cellphone and found him number. It rang and rang...he didn't pick up.

* * *

She saw them walk in the bar, slowly making their way to her pub table. Jesse must have recognized her by scent; Abby was definitely unrecognizable by appearance. Before she reached the bar in Three Lakes, she pulled off the road, stopping a small gas station to do a little primping and preparation. Going undercover just in case, she went through her bag of disguises, deciding on a chin length vibrant, cherry red bob for her hair. She had changed her makeup, adding a small beauty mark under eye left eye, and put on new clothes. She definitely had more of a biker chick vibe going on. Her look was finished with midnight black shades. The look was topped off by a motorcycle that she charmed a guy into letting her use. Charmed, seduced, used her powers of persuasion-same difference. Either way, it was better to drive in with a different vehicle. She wanted to be seen as a completely different person, nothing with her from her actual life; completely incognito.

Not surprisingly, Hannah was still covered more so than usual. She hid her face behind the sides of a simple black hoodie, head veiled and eyes shielded by dark rimmed sunglasses. Jesse led her by the arm, his hand wrapped around her upper arm. His grasp wasn't just a polite, gentlemanly gesture. No, his hand had a tighter grip than you normally would apply and he was definitely keeping her close. Abby could only surmise that it had a double purpose; to keep her in proximity as well as keep her safe. That was, if Hannah's story about her being a fugitive were indeed true. After all, with the young woman's deceitful track record, the vampire duo could just as easily had walked straight into a trap.

Abby's hand ghosted down from the table to her purse, containing two items of vital importance: her mother's journal and her knife. If she needed to bring out either, she was going to have to do it quickly.

Fingers skimmed the leather-bound cover of the book. Her mother's journal. Would she even have the strength to read it? She swallowed the emotional lump in her throat as Jesse and Hannah took a seat at her table.

"Evenin'," Jesse drawled, keeping his hand on Hannah's forearm. One quick snap of Jesse's fingers and her arm would be splintered. She wasn't going anywhere.

"So, you want me to talk," Hannah said, leaning against the table, her freed forearm pushed against the top surface. "I need you to do something for me. Ouch." She winced, looking down at her secured limb. "You know, you can loosen up a little. I'm not going to be able to outrun you, for Christ's sake."

She focused her attention back on Abby.

"So, here's the deal: I risked my life to get to you. What I want is a new life, a new place. Your nest can provide that, right?"

"Oh sure," Abby leaned back in her chair. "Let you right into the nest would go over well. Why would I want to do that, offer you, of all people, sanctuary? Besides, I bring you there, if the baddies are after you, they follow you to the nest. Boom. You get what I'm saying?"

"Fine," Hannah scoffed. "What about if you hide me?"

"We're not the witness protection agency," Abby said.

"Do _something_ for me. Anything," the young woman said, with a hint of desperation in her voice. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you...and Dean. I just...please, _please_ send me somewhere. If they find me, and definitely if they found out I'm speaking with you and Jesse, they'll kill me. They don't discriminate. Hell, they're looking for Jesse too. Look, I may have a little insight in this cluster-fuck and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me if I talk. I'm dead as it is already."

Abby looked at Hannah's face. The girl talked a good game, but wouldn't raise her eyes to the vampire. Not even a small glance, not one twitch. She kept her eyes down, most likely watching her hands. Remorse was written on her lips. Hannah was trembling, scared about her future.

"Fine," Abby finally huffed. "We'll figure something out. Now...tell me what's going on? What do you know about my family?"

Hannah leaned back and softly smiled, a thank you for perhaps her only life saving venture and even that wasn't a guarantee.

"What do you know about your Mom's family," Hannah began.

Abby shrugged, saying she only knew they were from Europe, England to be exact. Her mother's family wanted Ann to do something she didn't want to and marry someone she didn't want to, so she ran off with Thomas Stuart to the colonies.

"That's it," Hannah scoffed.

"Yeah, that's it. Now, what do you know?"

"Me? I know very little, only that your family is important to vampires. Royal blood they say. Other than that, I don't know shit. Everything within the sect was a 'need to know' thing. Hell, I don't even know the real name of the group. Only the top bitches know that," the human hissed. "Anyway, all I've heard is that your mother's family was powerful, old. I know you've heard that you were descended from royalty. Well, you are. You're descended from the very first vampire, the first one born into existence. The reason why your gram-mama flipped over your mom marrying your dad? Not keeping in the bloodline. Yeah, gross, I know. He was considered out of your mom's league. And, she was special. She had the most power, the most potential, and your family thought she threw it all away for your father. And, they were angry."

"Is...is that why my mother and father were-"

"Killed? Yep. Your brother weren't supposed to make it either. It was an extermination of your branch on the family tree…except for you. They saw your potential as a vampire leader. They hired and manipulated local folks to kill your family and take you into custody. Your brother was supposed to be at home the night of that your parents died. They didn't plan for him to be watching out for you. Plus, they were none too pleased to find out your were pregnant with a human's baby, so they decided you had to go as well for the preservation of the gene pool. With William's help, they tried to make all four of your deaths happen simultaneously."

Abby calmed herself down, memories flashing in her mind of the evening she nearly died, the night her parents were brutally murdered. She knew the atrocities William was doing to her own body yet she could not lift a finger to stop him, being trapped by her own unconsciousness. She could recall the voice of her brother and friends as they gasped in horror at the sight of her mangled body. All that remained of that terrible night was a montage of sounds and feelings, hardly any true visuals remained. Everything was mostly stored in a haze, painful blur except for one crucial person-Dean. She did remember Dean that night telling her, green eyes full of conviction, that she was going to be ok. He was right, she had to believe him to keep on going. He proved to be right, at least for a while. Now, over 200 years of history were hurtling back at her with frightening accuracy.

"You're probably wondering how I became involved in this fucking mess in the first place. I was introduced to Dean when he was fixing the brakes on my car," she bit her lip. "He was-I can't even describe it. He was so nice, and hot and that _smile_. Dear_ lord_. After that, I kept having little 'accidental' oopsies happen to my car so I could pay a visit to the auto body shop. He'd always work on my jalopy personally. Sorry, hun, but even though I knew he was married, I wanted him. I wanted him more than any other man I've ever met. And believe me, I could get just about anyone, but he was what I craved. He became an obsession, my own personal drug addiction. I thought for a minute that maybe I could steal him away, make him fall for me. Ok, and _maybe_ I saw the movie _The Craft_ one too many times, but I went to the library and found a book on witchcraft. I could actually do spells but I couldn't make Dean mine. I was getting _really_ frustrated. That would be around the time when I made my case to the Crossroads Demon. I'd researched it in some old text and I truly was ready to sell my soul, but the woman who appeared made a sweet ass deal. The terms were if I helped them split you and Dean up, I'd get my powers and Dean free of charge. Sounded like a bargain to me," Hannah said. "Well, at the time it sounded amazing. From reading about Crossroad Demons from the book I was sure I was going to have to pay up."

"Wait-wait," Jesse interrupted. "Break Abby and Dean up? But why? What the hell would be the Crossroads Demon's motivation?"

"To avoid what's going on right now, genius. Look, the Crossroads Demons are intertwined with the sect. They seen for years how Abby was fighting her true nature, her inner vampire, because of Dean. He's _human_. She acted in his best interest; keeping her inner vamp instincts locked inside because of _him_. There was no way she was going to leave with him around. They needed the two apart to start their plan. So, that's where I came in," she explained, turning to Abby. "Once I seduced Dean, with you catching him in the act, we all knew you would bolt. I had watched how you looked at me while I was around your husband; the jealously, the hate. Once I saw that it had gotten to that level, I knew I had to make a move. A little magic and poof, I knew I had Dean. I gave him something that you couldn't give him, something that would make him unaware of everything around him. When you walked in, it was perfect timing."

The table splintered under Abby's fingers. It was everything she could do from hurtling the wooden surface and attacking the stupid bitch.

As if Jesse could sense her distress, he continued the conversation on.

"What, pray-tell, was the point of breaking them up, except for your perverse pleasure," Jesse sneered

"Don't you get it? Abby was angry, depressed, hurt...when she left, she carried those feelings and they festered. Her soul was getting ugly and fast. They sent Wes to check on her progress, to see how their little experiment was going. Well, truth be told, they sent him to seduce her physically and mentally. They wanted her to fall for a true Lamia, that maybe she would learn from him, feel like her old self again. Maybe, she would start drinking human again. That would have changed your sense of what was right and wrong, and would have made your powers more heightened. You did just that. Even without Wes' guidance, you took that fork in the road all by yourself."

Abby lowered her head. She couldn't deny that she had done just that. Wes didn't even try his best to tempt her in any shape or form. At the time, she didn't quite understand why he had just left. It had felt odd. After all, she was ready to for him. She had been attracted to him, attracted to his power and confidence. Now that she knew that he cared for her daughter, it all made sense.

"Wes came back though, and said that you kicked his ass," Hannah smirked. "He was black and blue. They thought, maybe, maybe you had changed. Wes made the stand that you were too unstable to be approached. That not only were you powerful, but you were clearly unhinged. It was at his request that they find some other way to get what they wanted, leaving you alone. Of course, that didn't settle well with them. They would rather having you a blathering, foaming-at-the-mouth minion than not have you at all. The sect were on there way when Dean finally decided to man up and get you. By the time they got into town, you all had cleared out. After your gang got back together, the sect knew they had to go back to square one. So, this was plan," she counted on her fingers. "Plan F? Actually, I have no clue. They've been after you for a long ass time, Abby. Longer than you probably realized."

Abby didn't doubt that. Apparently she'd been a fugitive since her lucky escape back in 1790. Had they been tracking her down since then? If so, why the hell didn't act sooner; why wait till now? None of it was making much sense. Hannah had no idea why she was being hunted by this supposed sect. Jesse had not a clue either; he was initially only following orders from Jenny, who was much farther up on the totem pole in terms of rank. Her orders did not suggest a larger plan. He only got snippets of instructions. One such mission was to create a dream in her head.

"They had me trying to get into your head for years, Abby. Yours is a hard head to crack. So many barriers and shielding. I got through once long ago, back when you were single in Chicago dealing with the rogue vampire case, right around the time you met up with the Winchesters. When they needed me again, they wanted one with James being disappointed in you," he admitted, his voice resonating shame. "They knew how your relationship with your brother was of the utmost importance. I did this twice and, after that, the reoccurrence were all on your own. I'm sorry I ever went through with it. I know the confusion it's caused you. But that wasn't the first time either, our first test of "

There was something she was missing, something that was sticking out like a sore thumb in all the mess. She went over the timeline in her head, trying to figure it out the order of the madness. Ok, first, her mom screws up the relationship with her family and moved to the New World with her father. Got it. Then, they have James and herself, one happy family. Jump ahead 17 years to 1737 and they were toast.

Subsequent to the murderous revenge rampage time in her life, Abby and James made a life as semi-permanent vagabonds, taking the rare occasion to settle down. However, that was always very much short lived. James insisted aliases and on moving from place to place, sometimes with only a few spare moments between towns. Her brother always this mystery about him; here one minute, gone the next.. Abby always just assumed his late-night runs were for the sole purpose of hunting but perhaps it wasn't. For all one knows, he may have known they were being followed all along, using his alone time for reconnaissance. At the first sign of something amiss, he made them pack up and get the hell out of Dodge. It wasn't until the 2000s that Abby finally put her foot down and told James they were to settle down in Chicago. She thought it was fine. After all, it was a big city and, with the nest around, nothing bad could happen. They could happily live there for years and years without interruption or question. But, it wasn't until they settled down in Chicago that things really started to go downhill. What was the link?

"Hannah," she started, before pausing to gather her thoughts. "Chicago is where all this nonsense, all this turmoil began. One person began it for me with the death of my brother; Caleb. Was he-"

"Involved with the organization," Hannah paused, checking out her painted nails. "Yes."

Abby didn't dare ask the next question, but the words flowed freely before she could stop herself.

"For how long," she whispered, her eyes staring at some abstract water spot on the worn countertop.

"Since that night you met back in 19-whatever. He was sent to find out about you. Once they tracked you down, they need to know who you were; they wanted to find out your weaknesses. It took them that long to track you. From what I heard, you were a pain in all their asses up till that point. You and James were pretty good at flying under the radar. So, when they found you, they needed an agent. They figured send a good-looking vegan vamp your way and you'd spill all the beans," she stopped to stir her drink she ordered. "Problem was, much to the chagrin of the powers that be, he actually fell for you. He was in love with you and after he realized that little tidbit, he did his best to keep you safe. He joined up with the nest and became an elite member to get crucial information for you protection."

Trying her damnedest to repress it, she couldn't help but slip back to a happy memory. A night at a local dance hall in Chicago with the booze flowing, Prohibition having been lifted just two years before. The dance hall become the gathering spot after the Speakeasies closed down. She came with a guy, some human boy who was too drunk to care when she saw him. With a presence that was unmistakably vampire and a confidence she had not yet seen in an individual, he offered his hand and asked her to dance.

She accepted. They danced to what would later become their song, and a song that she could never listen to the same again. Once, it was because it was so sweet and now…that song was pregnant with her deepest, coiled feelings of regret.

Abby couldn't deny that, for a while, she and Caleb were blissfully happy. It was a love that would make most people sick. A lot of laughing and smiles. Then, something changed.

For a some time before he left for Montana, Caleb had been keeping his distance. Their goodbye before he left had been met with much tension.

"I can come with, Caleb," she had offered, doing her best to try to convince him without begging.

"_No_," he had said, putting his foot firmly down. "You're my second in command and you're needed here. That's not a request, Abby, that's an order."

"Please, Cal. Please," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders before she whispered, "Please don't leave me."

"Goddamn it, Abby," he pushed her away. With that, he left. He hadn't called, written, emailed; the first thing she had heard from him was the fact that he had been killed and the Winchesters were involved. She let herself be sad for a split second about her lost love with Caleb.

She stopped herself. Why was she even thinking any close to that? After all, he was the one who ended the life of her brother.

_James_. Oh, how she wished he was there at that moment. He was always the smart one, the one who could take two words from this craziness and solve the puzzle. He always had a way of making something complicated look like child's play, thus making her feel like an idiot for not seeing it in the first place. Like Caleb. She was sure her brother had figured it out before his demise. She was sure of it. Perhaps in his life, he had even known about some of the insanity that was in her current situation.

"But," Hannah continued, pulling Abby from her mindless wandering. "When his group was slaughtered, he felt helpless and joined up with them again, submitting to them and gaining their full allegiance. If only he knew that they were the ones that were the reason for the attack. They were going to kill him, make no mistake. He was dead meat. The real assailants left and members of the sect arrived, telling him that it was his own nest that set him up. They gave him one last chance, offering him immunity and his life in terms of his services of getting you. After all, they wanted his head for betraying them. Step one was the retaliation on the nest, luring them in with the mysterious deaths of humans…starting in Chicago. He wanted to take you when it was all said and done, join him to keep you safe from them, and part of that meant getting rid of your bro-"

Abby growled deep from within her chest.

"Stop. Hannah, just _stop!_ I know what happens after that. Regardless of him wanting to keep me from harm, what he did was...unspeakable, diabolical and most definitely unforgivable. I hope he's in Hell."

"What I want to know, Hannah, is what do they want with Abby? Even after all this time, I can't figure it out," Jesse pondered.

Hannah looked back and forth between Abby and Jesse.

"Don't look at me, bub. I was just the messenger. I knew about the Caleb stuff because it's not a secret. Whatever has to do with Abby is a secret. Look, like I said, she's royalty," she gestured to the female vampire across the table. "She's needed for something and they wanted her by a specific deadline. That's why they decided to move in and give her an ultimatum; a timeline. Guess the sect was hoping all those notes would entice her to seek them out sooner and have the work done for them. They need her for a ceremony or something, something to do with their family history. I don't know for sure. Everything is done behind closed doors. It's really shady. Those who are meant to know, know, and all the rest of us knew our small roles and that was it. But they need you, it's not just a matter of want, Abby. Prom was the tipping point. The sect was desperate to get your cooperation by then; they wanted a guarantee from you. They _need_ you and they will do anything to get to you. I suggest you go willingly. Look, your family is sweet and I don't want anything to happen to them."

Great. Dead end…again.

"Perhaps-perhaps we should look at anything significant happening during the time they want you, Abby," Jesse suggested. "Anything of historical significance or astrological occurrences. Maybe that could lead us to a clearer answer?"

He had a valid point.

Abby snapped her eyes down to her watch. She needed to get home before someone wondered why groceries took over 2 hours to get.

"Alright, I have to leave," Abby said. "I'll have Gwen make arrangements with Jesse to get you to safety. She will not know who she is arranging to move you or to where. Good luck on your journey. I appreciate your openness and risk to try to help."

"I wish I could do more," Hannah said, standing. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I did to your family. Looks like I am going to pay up eventually anyway, right?"

Abby nodded to both Jesse and Hannah and made her way out the bar and to her 'rented' motorcycle.

The wind whipped her face as she drove 80mph back to Sam's SUV at the station. After swapping them, and ensuring the owner of the vehicle via her powers that is baby was fine, she wiped off the makeup and tore off the vibrant wig. Back to good ole' Abigail Winchester.

No. She was Abigail Stuart. It seemed that a simple name change couldn't shake her past. With a sad smile, she looked down at her mom's journal. If she were to get any clear view on her mother's past, she would have to dive right in. And she would; that night, when everyone was asleep, she would look into her mom's world.

* * *

Something was eatin' at Dean. He kept trying to shake it but it just kept coming back. Although he wasn't quite sure what the hell could be wrong, his judgment was saying something was up.

They sat by the bonfire together, just the boys, until Jamie wanted to go in. That just left the two brothers. Just like old times.

Moments like bonfires and stargazing were some of the most cherished. That, and the most quiet. No prank wars. No bitching to each other. No hunting. Just the two of them hanging out.

"Sam," Dean said, turning to his brother, who was seated in a wooden adirondack chair to his left.

"Yeah."

"Do you get the feeling like somethin' is up? I got this feelin' like something is gonna happen...," he admitted.

"Like what," Sam replied, shifting in his chair. He didn't need his brother to say anything; his body language said it all. Sammy also knew something was up, something was going on.


	35. Head Games

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

_NOTE: I should be uploading more frequently. We are getting close to the end of the 5th story and I am really cranking out the chapters. Let me tell you, it is going to get really awesome soon. Thanks for reading._

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* * *

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Keys rattled on the counter, followed by the crumbling of paper bags.

"Back," Abby announced in the kitchen.

"What, did they run out of food at the grocery store," April barbed.

Her mother was up to _something_. She could feel the nervous energy coming off, practically radiating from the female vampire near the food storeroom. Her brother may be the empath in the family, but it didn't mean that she didn't have share some of those abilities. Being a twin had its advantages.

It was really hard not to feel when someone was hiding something. It was if it was part of her gut; April had always been able to read people. She just got them. They would use up almost all of their energy pushing people out, not allowing anyone close enough to get into their deepest secrets. Their minds, and the truth, would always be locked unless they pronounced the truth-until now.

She had an ace up her sleeve-Jesse.

"Need any help putting away the groceries, Mom?"

"A.C, so are you going to bet or am I playing by myself here," Ruby said from across the table.

April looked at the spread on Texas Hold Em' and glanced back down to her cards. She had nothing.

"I fold."

"And I _win_. Come to, mama," Ruby laughed, greedily taking the pile of candy from the middle of the table.

"No, I don't need any help," Abby finally answered after blurring back and forth across the kitchen several times at vampire speed. Before April could gather herself to help, her mother was done.

"Oh, all right," April murmured, placing her hands down her sides.

"I want to play another hand," Ruby said.

Why the hell not? She had one more game in her.

"Sure," April smiled, shuffling the deck. She cut it and dealt the cards between herself and Ruby. She quickly laid out the flop in the center of the table.

"So, young lady, are you in or out," her aunt prodded.

April thought about her decision as her mom made pleasant side conversation with Ruby. Her aunt made sure to let her mom know they had already eaten and not to worry about cooking, even though Ruby was still a little hungry. Abby moved to the kitchen and tossed a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham cracker and packs of chocolate their way.

"The boys are still down by the bonfire. Go make some s'mores," her mom suggested.

"Nice! Thank you," Ruby smiled, slightly squishing the bag of marshmallows in her grip. "After this hand. How 'bout it, April?"

"I'm in," she bet her favorite candy; Butterfingers.

"Hey, big spender. I'll see your Butterfingers and raise you a Snickers," her aunt laughed.

"Ok guys, well, I don't have a decent stash here so I'm gonna go hunting," Abby said, already nervously glancing at the door over her shoulder. She looked like she was going to jump out of her skin to leave.

"Well, don't be out too late," April said nonchalantly, keeping her eyes on her cards.

Ruby flipped over the turn on the table.

April still had a shot.

"Yeah...I won't," Abby said, a bit of skepticism in her voice, followed by the slam of the door.

April and Ruby stayed. No raises.

The river.

"Shit," Ruby said, tossing down her cards.

"Victory is indeed sweet," April smiled smugly as she grabbed her winning from the center of the table.

Ruby, after a little bit of a struggle, got up from the table and made her way, s'mores ingredients in hand, to the back door that led down to the boys. She pivoted around and asked April if she was going to join them at the fire pit.

"Nah," April said, munching on some of her treats. "J is asleep. I'm gonna stick around here and make sure he's fine. You know, new place, possibly new spirits-"

"Or Zachariah," Ruby groaned, reminding both of them that the angel may still have a reason to harass the youngest Winchester boy. Although no one was sure of his exact intentions, if it was coming from Zac, it couldn't be good. From what April had gathered about him, Zachariah wasn't the warrior of God he first portrayed himself to be. In reality, her family had nearly lost the Battle of Stull Cemetery, and the apocalypse, because of his deception. After all, he was the one who let Sam know Lilith was going to be there, which started a chain reaction of horrendous events. April was just glad that she could barely remember any of it.

"Exactly. I'm going try to do my best to shield for him; let him get some rest. It was a long day," April feigned a yawn.

Ruby nodded, saying goodnight as she left to join the adults.

Goodnight? Oh, she had no intention of going to sleep anytime soon. Sure, she would lay up on her temporary bed in the loft, eyes shut, but she planned to listen with her hyper-senses for her mother's return and when she did-her mother was going to have to answer her, like it or not.

* * *

She wasn't analytical as she ran through the woods, her vampire senses directing her on autopilot. Her feet skirted over every major obstacle, anything left in her path crushed underfoot, leaving only dust and rubble in her wake.

Abby didn't know where her mind was leading her. She needed a place that she could feel completely at ease to fully absorb what she was about to read. It was her history and her future all rolled into one single text; scrolled on single pieces of aging parchment.

Her feet screeched to a halt at the edge of a clearing. Great. The very open center in the middle of flipping no where; wasn't it so appropriate? After all, the dreams she had been having with James took place in a field; his hurt eyes staring daggers into her, the ever mysterious grave-marker, never legible, was forever off in the distance.

_"It's your fault," James screamed at her, pointing at the tombstone. "You could have stopped it!" _Stopped _what_? If he was pointing towards any issue that was currently transpiring, her freedom hanging in the balance, he was way off; from all she could see, there was no escaping her alleged captors.

Taking a seat under the security of a swaying willow tree, she opened to the first page.

Her fingers grazed over the ink marks left on the yellowed pages, the only things tangibly left behind by her mother. Everything else, sans one other item of importance, were scorched to the earth in the fire, mingling with the ashes of her parents. The other item, a small painting of just the two of them, was held at the nest for safe keeping, along with other items of extreme importance she had acquired over the centuries.

She remembered her mother's and her own secret language, a mix of meaningful symbols and slang. It took a moment to decipher each line, but when she did, it was forming from a elaborate cipher into coherent information.

The pages started with her life in England, the eldest of a group of sisters. The words were happy, her life full. She even wrote about the moment she first met her husband-to-be, Thomas Stuart. Then, torn pages, at least 100 of them shredded from the book, some remnants even appearing singed.

The rest of the volume's pages showed much significance. Symbols and patterns, more like a hunter's journal than a vampire's diary. Spells. Her mother's book was full of _spells_. Binding spells? Blocking spells? Demonic exorcisms, some that she had never seen before? Parts of this section were marked, circled with blood red ink from a quill, newer than the original writing. But, why? Was her mother meaning this as a reference for herself or someone else?

Head resting on her palm, she continued to skim through, venturing towards the end of the journal and the end of her mother's life.

Yes, Abby could decode the spells. They were a deeper, darker kind, involving blood. Blood made any spell stronger especially one cast by a vampire. For whatever reason, not only did the vital liquid make a vampire physically stronger, but it allotted them more power as a spell-caster, a power that a human witch could only fathom of having. Whatever Ann Stuart was up to, she did her homework.

Spell. Turn the page. Spell. Turn the page.

Was there anything of actual use? Didn't her mother leave her anything behind? A kind word or perhaps an explanation?

Frustration set in, causing her to cruelly toss the book across the damp grass.

"What the hell, mother," she howled. "Is that all you have done for me? Left me a little book of spells behind and lied to me? Lied to me? You LIED to me my entire life! You always told your 'Little Abigail' that I'd be fine, that I'd grow up to be something great. You told me I'd get to do things that you could never do."

She paced, her feet kicking away flowers, the petals crushing underfoot, the color bleeding away in to the damp grass below.

"You knew all along, didn't you? You knew this was going to happen...and you did nothing to prepare me. _Nothing_." She yanked at her hair, causing pain to run through her scalp.

'_There was no way I could prepare you,'_ a voice said inside of her head. It reminded her of her mother but, no - it was her own voice. After all, Abby was a mother herself now. She had the same feelings about her own children's lives, their own well-beings. There was only so much you could do and do your best.

But, this wasn't something to skimp on. Hell no. Abby would do a far superior job than her mother. She would write it all down for her daughter, like she was currently doing, so at least one person had an iota of what was occurring in her life, in her heart and in her mind. It was so April wouldn't feel like she was recklessly abandoned.

"You could have mentioned something to me, Mother," she whispered. "Maybe if I had been hidden away, far away where no one could have found me, I could have lived my life differently, better even. Maybe I could have helped more. Maybe I would have been more careful in my life."

'_There was no point in having you live in fear. What way is that to live,' _she would have said to her own child in the same situation.

After all, if Abby had lived in fear and regret, she would have never invested in a relationship with Dean, thus making her family nonexistent.

Damn paradoxes.

However, nothing as bad as her capture could be meant to be; a form of fate. She didn't see how anything omnipotent could allow such retribution.

She crossed the ground, her head a jumble of thoughts, her body drawn in a tight line. Drops of rain fell from the sky, drizzling to the dewy grass below, the beads forming her hair into a mess of waves. With intent, she went towards her mother's discarded seemingly useless journal. Spells? She didn't need spells. What she needed was a goddamn miracle..and she had a feeling that after her last round of miracles, with Dean saving her very life, she was out of them.

Paper crinkled under foot.

Abby glanced down to her foot to discovered a small piece of aged parchment stuck to the bottom. She picked it up, taking a peculiar look at the folded note. The color of the document was aged and worn but was an obvious color different from the rest of the journal.

Carefully, she opened it up, unfolding it to it's fullest capacity.

_Dearest Abigail,_

_If you are reading this, I fear that I have departed. It is to be hoped that my writings have not fallen into the wrong hands, for if these secrets are revealed, I fear for your safety as well as your brother. I pray that you are both out of danger._

_This journal is now yours, it documents what my life has become. My life has been one of paranoia as of late. I am anxious for my family._

_These spells that I have documented are ancient relics of a dead art. Memorize them and keep them close. I have not had that opportunity to do so, but with a long life, you surely will be able to. The key to keeping yourself and those you love out of harm's way lie in these words._

_I have taken the liberty of marking the ones I feel are of the utmost importance. If my past ever catches up to you, and I fear it may, these are imperative to learn._

_Please heed my advice. You and your brother are the two most precious beings in the world. _

_Keep safe._

_I'm sorry for any problems my prior failings may have caused you._

_All of My Love Forever,_

_Ann_

There it was, laid in her late mother's elegant script. In Ann's own words-she had indeed known of the potential situations that could befall her daughter and, for that, she was sorry. To top it off, she may hidden clues and have a way for Abby to break her current bond. After all her selfish pleading and admonishment of her parent's memory, her mother didn't leave her completely empty-handed after all.

"What are you doing?"

Abby blurred around to find Gwen, clad in her 1940s-style green nightgown, standing barefoot just outside of meadow. She remained slightly in the shadows, the pale moon playing off her just as sallow skin and golden hair.

"Abby," she pressured for a response, her voice quivering with a hint of skepticism.

"What are you doing _here_, Gwen?"

"Funny, I was going to ask _you_ that. I left Cas in bed and got up to see you-except you had left, _again_. Abby, what is going _on_," her friend asked, defensively crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't know what you are talking about-" Abby turned away from her, getting ready to escape the interrogation. Before she could fully swing around towards the opposite direction, Gwen had zoomed straight across the field, standing directly in front her.

Thunder cracked in the distance and lightening shot across the sky, a manifestation of Gwen herself.

"No. _Enough_," she said as the thunder rumbled.

The vampire's eyes flashed a glimmer, a sign that the usually calm Lamia was on edge.

"Abby, you are _not_ fine ! You are so lying and so busted! Look, there has been something going on with you since Prom. No, not even that is true. Truth be told, everything has been off since those letters showed up. Nothing is fine-and I know you know more than what you are letting on."

"Gwen, I just-"

"You're like my sister, Ab. You're the only one I've ever had; the only person close to a sibling for me. Please don't ruin our relationship by _lying_ to me."

The sky opened up.

"Gwen, our relationship isn't the only one I'm ruining. Do you think you're the only one being betrayed? We ALL are. No one is safe anymore," Abby spat, the water dripping past her lips. "All of us are royally screwed."

Gwen took a step forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her chin, eyes meeting one another.

"Tell me."

"I can't...it's not a matter of won't-I _can't_, Gwen," she admitted. "If I do, it's all over."

Gwen's finger grazed over her friend's shoulder, the sympathetic touch of a friend.

'_What _can_ you tell me,'_ she questioned in her mind, allowing her friend into her thoughts. _'How can I help you?'_

Abby regarded her surroundings, clutching her mother's now soaking wet diary securely to her chest. Her fingers skimmed over the ancient binding. Perhaps all wasn't lost. For all she knew, she could indeed beat her deal with the secrets locked in the contents of the book.

She thought about it. Had she taken the herbs Jesse provided, but, was it enough of them to block anyone out? With a new amulet to block thoughts cold against her chest, she took the risk.

'_I can't tell you everything. What I can do is ask something of you. First off, your absolute discretion-Dean and the family cannot know of any of this. Next, I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious people in the area and let me know.'_

'_Will they be dressed in an outdated, fashionable, black cloak,'_ she raised an eyebrow.

Did-did Gwen know something that she wasn't letting on or perhaps it was an assumption because she was a witness to her past, she had heard someone mention the cloaked girl? Had she also seen Hannah at the Prom?

'_Look, if there is anyone out of place, make me aware of it. Also, tell Lenore to be on the look out and keep an eye on my son. I need someone to keep an eye on him. I also need you to check something for me. Can you look into who Caleb's closest contacts were at the nest?'_

'_Do I need to ask why or should I just shut up and do it because you're still sorta my boss,' _the blonde vampire smiled.

Abby chuckled and sighed, putting a hand to her stressed forehead.

"It's going to be okay, Abby. I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure you're all right."

Abby reached for her, wrapping her arms tightly around the stunned vampire.

"Thank you, Gwen. You really are my sister. We've been through so much together, my dear friend."

"You don't have to remind me of that," Gwen smiled, giving Abby a squeeze back.

With her mother's precious diary carefully in her hand, the two walked back to the cabins. Abby was more determined than ever to break the deal and get the freedom her mother always wanted her to have.

* * *

"Why is your hair wet," Dean asked, kissing her damp forehead.

She put her book down, setting it on the small table next to the bench in the window nook.

Abby looked up at him over her glasses. Yes, glasses. It was strange the little things that seemed to remain from her former stint as a short-term human. Her experiences of loosing her powers after getting shot almost 15 years before in St. Augustine left behind one interesting variable; her sight. For some reason, her nearsighted vision had gotten a little worse, leaving her far sight intact. Not long after Dean returned from The Pit, he caught her trying to read the newspaper, pulling it closer and farther to readjust her vision. After some coaxing, she of course denied any issues and would only say that her eyes were probably just strained or tired from being overworked. She was right, they were, but it wasn't from something she was doing; it was a permanent condition. Her doctor said it could have been caused because of the delay between the shooting and her treatment. So, to be blunt, he didn't get her to her doctor fast enough.

She carried on, pretending her sight was fine. Dean was with her, who cares about sight, right? It was Sam who urged her to 'just try' a pair of cheapo reading glasses from the grocery store, and sonofabitch, it worked.

For a few minutes a day, he would look over at her struggling to read before placing her glasses on her nose, and he would 100% forget she wasn't completely human.

Although, that was unfair. What made someone human or good? To Dean, being human just meant not being an ignorant dick. She could never be that. As bad as it could get, Abby was one of the most genuine, coolest people he'd ever met.

She took her glasses off and stretched her hands high above her head.

"I went hunting and got a little lost out in the rain," she eyed him curiously. "Why are _you_ wet?"

"Sammy and I were out by the fire having some brews. It's been great to just sit and talk with him without the mention of 'hunting' or 'job' in a sentence. Let me tell you, that boy has problems right now. He says he's fine about the baby but you can tell he's scared shitless. I guess that's bound to happen at some point."

"When did you get nervous," she raised an eyebrow.

"Um...honestly...before a kid was even in the picture. That's why kids were never in the picture in the first place. My life and Sammy were already too much to deal with by itself. And, I mean, I knew my childhood, you know? All I could think about back then was I didn't want kids to share my life. And, here we are," he smirked, plopping on the edge of the bed.

He looked around at their bedroom. It wasn't anything like the crappy hotel rooms he had memorized as a boy. No popcorn ceilings with strange water damage stains. No weird-ass lamps. No waterbed filled with fake fish. No 'fake' wilderness themed rooms with deranged looking moose painted on the wall. Nope. This was a real cabin with all the old wooden beams and logs making up the room.

Well, he had to admit it was a girly cabin. Abby did get a plaid bedspread but she always had to add what she called 'accents' and stuff Dean didn't give two shits about. Sure, he'd watched an amount of HGTV when he'd been in between hunts, but it was only out of sheer boredom. It was the amount of pillows Abby put on beds that annoyed him. He needed one to sleep, she wanted two. That's all there should be. No, every night it was a war to find the top of the blanket under the avalanche of decorative pillows. Ten was overkill.

"I'm digging this," he sighed happily, hitting his hands on his jeaned thighs. "I seriously am."

"Well, I'm glad, Dean," she smiled, continuing to lounge in window nook. "I like to see you happy. That's very important to me." Was there a little bit of sadness in her voice?

"Really, Ab. This-this is awesome. I have to ask...did Cas mention a dream like this..."

"Maybe once," she smirked. "It may have been the original idea but I knew this whole quiet thing is what you like."

Dean smiled. It had been a long time since he had the fishing off of the dock dream.

"You know, Ab, I think it's time again," he announced.

"For?"

"Retiring. For real this time. I don't want to be a Brett Favre with all 'will he' or 'won't he' bull crap," he said. "Nope. I'm done."

"You're serious," she lifted her eyebrow.

"I did it once. We both did, remember?"

"Of course. After we got the kids back after Stull, we promised each other that we'd raise them outside of the hunter lifestyle. You remember how long that lasted, right? Sixth months, a few months at that? We couldn't just let people down," she admitted.

"Yeah, sure, we went back into the field on occasion when we were begged to; whenever we were really needed. Don't you remember all the moving during that time? Pulling the kids out of different schools, having them make new friends over and over? We both sat down one night and decided it wasn't fair to them; we had lived those lives and knew how much it sucked. Ab, we had a good, what almost six years with no cases at all, right? We stayed at the same house and didn't have to move. We were-"

"Stable," she finished.

"Yeah, exactly. We had the apple-pie life for a good six years with no hunting, no monsters-and then, sure, we started taking cases important again. But you gotta admit, it was only on the rare occasion. I took one with Sam, then you took one with Sam and Gwen-"

"Right, and the Nest put me more in charge and needed me to run the place in Lenore's absence. Yeah, I remember. Then the hunts kept coming. I have to admit twice a month was a lot less than our old schedules, but still, we couldn't just stop doing it. We had responsibilities." She was right on about the schedule difference. He couldn't even imagine the amount of driving he and Sam did on an hour or two of sleep, after beating the shit out of monsters...or getting the shit beat out of themselves.

"I know. I know people need us, but look, there is a whole new generation of hunters now. They're younger, maybe not a hell of a lot wiser, but still. They'll pick it up. Look, I mean, that whole letter thing with you has simmered down, right? Don't get me wrong, we'll definitely keep an eye on it and do whatever we have to make sure you're ok but other than that, hun, I'm done. I'm just _tired_, Ab. I like being home, going to work at the garage, coming home, eating dinner and watching some tv with the kids and crashing in bed with you. I look forward to that and now I can add drivin' up to my weekend cabin to that list. Work then relax. Maybe-maybe my life doesn't have to end bloody or sad. Maybe I can walk out. I've saved people's lives-I think it's time I live the rest of mine. Is that selfish and make me a dick?"

"No," she shook her head smiling. Abby popped up off of the bench and sat on his lap. "No, Dean, you're not selfish. If you think it's time to reel 'er in, then do it. You do deserve time off and I mean that for real."

"No more cases?"

"No more cases."

"Only if they effect us directly, for our safety," he amended as she shook her head. "Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed, shaking his hand. "If we can stick to it."

Dean laughed, patting her on the back, promising her that they would keep their contract.

He took a deep breathe. In and out. No more. He was done. Unless there was something threatening his family, he was _out_.

It felt-weird. Weird but good.

"What about the kids? I don't want them involved anymore," Dean admitted.

"Dean," Abby frowned at him, her arms around his neck. "We can't force them to do anything. April enjoys it and Dylan _has_ to for now. They'll make their decision when they're ready."

"If we wouldn't have gotten back into it, they wouldn't have ever known, Ab," he sighed, feeling like he was the one at fault. Abby reassured him that not one person was liable; it was just the roll of the dice. Call it fate. Dean called it crap.

"We can't lock them in a box," she reminded him.

Sometimes he wish he could. It was hard enough keeping other people's kids from danger and even that he could barely deal with. Thinking that his own were in trouble was almost beyond unbearable. If something were to happen to those kids-

"Hey," she kissed his cheek. "Don't worry about it tonight, Dean. Listen, I'm going to hit the hay. Care to join me?"

"In a little while. I'm gonna hang downstairs for a bit. Sammy wanted to talk a little more in our cabin since he didn't want to go back down to the big one and risk wakin' Jamie or Ruby," he said, even though it would be more of Sam talking and Dean just listening. If there was one thing that made his brother whinier than usual, it was giving an opinion when it wasn't asked for. However, that was one of Dean's strong suits. Both of them would probably huff up to bed angry later, but at least when they did, they had two awesome chicks to talk to about each other. Venting was a good thing.

Abby snuggled into bed, toppling all the unnecessary cushions onto the hardwood floor. She practically fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow.

He sat there for a few minutes, watching her rest. How come she was so damn tired? It must have been the trip up north. They weren't used to that amount of driving anymore.

"G'night, babe. Be up soon," he whispered, moving towards the nook to turn off the light.

As he clicked it off, he noticed a slightly damp item tucked tightly between a pillow and a blanket on the bench.

He quickly picked it up and opened it carefully.

Dean stared down at the weird markings and lettering. He didn't dare turn the page. Another single sound could alert Abby.

Instead, he tucked the book in the back of his jeans, covering it with his shirt, and headed downstairs, shutting the door softy behind him.

He stopped and listened for a moment, to see if she shifted and shuffled around, ready to ask him why she had the book. Nothing.

Quickly and quietly, he made his way down the stairs to the living room, where Sam was waiting.

"Dean, what's," Sam asked at his brother's obvious rush.

"Shhh," Dean said, pointing to the front door.

Dean hopped into the Impala and gestured for Sam to do the same.

"What the hell is going on," Sam asked Dean, cautiously closing the car door behind him.

"What is this," Dean tossed the book to Sam.

Sam opened it up as Dean started the engine.

"Where are we going," Sam asked, as he skimmed through the pages.

"Anywhere away from here for a while," he backed up quickly out the driveway and right onto the street, shifting gears and gunning it down the street as fast as he could.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing over to Sam as he looked through the pages.

"Any idea of what that says at all," Dean questioned.

"No. I-I've never seen anything like this. It's not Latin or anything related to it," he skimmed the pages, before laughing a little.

"What's so funny," the elder brother harped.

"You know what it reminds me of? Secret codes that you'd use to write to your friends in school. We'd use like yin-yangs for letters and peace signs and stuff so only we could figure it out. We'd have a key that we'd memorize then get rid of so if anyone found our notebook we passed around classes, no one could figure it out."

"Must have been a lame-o thing kids did after the cool kids were already in high school," Dean smirked.

"Thanks," Sam snarked back. "That's the only thing I can think of. None of these are an actual language. But I mean, look at this. The letters very and some whole words are symbols. Unless we found a key-"

"Or, maybe it _is_ some really, old language that is close to Latin and we have no clue what it's about."

"Dean, where did you find this," Sam inquired.

"Abby was reading it and tried to hide it away. I think it may have something to do with that bad feeling I've been having about her lately."

Sam just nodded, not wanting to pressure him for details. He could probably feel the stress Dean was suddenly feeling. So much for a relaxing vacation. So much for not hunting; that lasted for all of five minutes.

Maybe he was over thinking it. For all he knew, it could have been something be writings in a language she was familiar with and she enjoying her book. Can't a girl just read an ancient text with ritualistic markings on vacation? Not likely.

Sam stretched and asked Dean where they were going.

"Well, we're in the middle of freakin' no where, so I say we find a 24-hour gas station and pray to God they have a copier and fax machine. If they do, which I hope so because we need to get this back by the morning, then we're gonna send a few pages of the book to Bobby, see if he can make heads or tails of it. I just hope he's got a lead for us," he said, turning his head to glance at Sam. His brother asked what would happen if they couldn't find on with a fax. Dean said he hadn't thought that far yet. There was a probably a library around somewhere, but that would mean that they would have to be super stealthy to get it back from Abby without her knowing. Minus someone else involved in getting the journal away, or keeping her occupied, they were up shit creek without a paddle."Sam, we have to do this quick, put this book back and shut up about it. I don't want you speaking or even thinking about this. We need to keep this completely under-wraps. If any of those words or whatever really means anything, Abby can't know about this, and I mean at all. She can never know about this."

He gunned the engine down the highway, keeping an eye for any gas stations in the distance.

* * *

"Look, just see what you can find out about Abby's family and Caleb's contacts, all right? This is extremely important," Gwen whispered in the alcove outside of her door, the sliding door closed between herself and the rest of the house. How appropriate that April just had been on her way to the bathroom at that moment.

"Keep an eye on Dylan, all right, Sonora...I can't tell you, just do what you're told, please. Look, I'm sorry about being snippy. I have no reason to be, but I-Abby-needs you to do this for her, ok? Thanks, hun. Keep me updated."

A beep followed, signaling the end of the call.

April hurriedly slipped unnoticed into the bathroom, shutting the door. Ear pressed up against the ornately carved wood, she listened for Gwen to knock, figuring the vampire would have heard her niece scurrying away.

There was nothing.

Phew.

April silently escaped the bathroom and headed out to the main living space.

What was _that_ conversation all about? Why in the hell would Gwen be calling Sonora at 2 a.m.? That is, unless something was up-just like April suspected.

Onto her plan.

She stepped outside and dialed his number saved on her cell phone.

Ring. Ring.

"Yes," he sighed with slight annoyance, a greeting that she wasn't exactly accustomed to from him.

"Hi to you too. Listen, Jesse, I need a favor," she whispered.

"I'm a little busy right now," he replied gruffly. She heard him quietly tell someone to be quiet in the background. Was that a woman?

"Hey, I don't know who or what you're with, but if you care about me you'll stop what you're doing and help me," she ordered, hoping that a quick tug on his heartstrings would lure him to her direction.

"Fine," he snapped back. "Anything April wants, April gets, right?"

She suddenly felt incredibly selfish.

"Look, I'm sorry," he apologized. "What do you need?"

As noiselessly as possible, she told Jesse of her plan: have Jesse invade her mother's dream and somehow bring April into the mix, letting her peek in on as an observer.

Silence.

"April-"

"Jesse, please don't tell me no or shut me out. Everyone has been doing that to me around here. My mom, Gwen...look something is going on and everyone is in on it. I couldn't stand if you left me in the dark as well."

"April,-look I have to stay here for a while, maybe a couple more hours tops, and then I can come to you and be with your for a while, at least listen-"

April huffed loudly. She didn't know how to get her way, so she did the only way she knew how, even though she knew it would get her into trouble.

"Do you love me, Jesse," she asked.

There was stillness on the other end.

"Well, do you," April pressured for a response.

"I do," he gave in. "I do love you, but, I wonder what you feel about me, trying to force me to do this. Do you love m-gah, look, it's too soon after Wes to be talking about this. I know how much he meant-"

"I do love you, Jesse. I'm not sure what it exactly means yet in terms of an us, but I do love and care for you. As two people who love each other, I would appreciate it if you helped me out here. Please," she pleaded, biting her lower lip.

He reluctantly submitted with an exhale.

"Look, it can be done and I'll do it but I can't guarantee what you're mother will be dreaming about or if it would help you. Dreams are often cryptic and if your mom is really doing her shielding, I can't guarantee anything," he groaned. "When do you want to try this?"

"Well,...is now possible?"

Another groan.

"Not really," he admitted. "I'm kind of watching someone of importance, but if you need something this urgently, I'll do it. Go to sleep and I'll get to you shortly."

April thanked him a million times over and told him how much she appreciated his gesture.

"Sure," he sighed. "Sleep tight, hun."

He hung up the phone and April bounded back up to bed, ready to find out if her mother's dreams were filled with the secrets and answers she knew Abby was hiding.

* * *

"Who was on the phone," Dylan asked, leaning against the door to Sonora's room.

"Your aunt Gwen," she admitted to him stoically, keeping her head in her book.

His aunt? Why didn't she just call him? Why did he call Sonora, especially at that hour?

"What did she want," he said, sitting on her bed, watching her every movement while she sat at her desk, her head buried in a book.

"Nothing for you," she said sternly, before sighing, placing her book down on the desk in front of her. "I'm sorry, Dylan. It's just business-important, classified business."

Dylan inquired if it was something Lenore should be made aware of.

Sonora's dark eyes snapped up to his. She blurred to close her door and sat next to him on her bed.

He looked at her with an amused expression. Inside, he hoped that maybe it was a fun surprise for Lenore or something, but there something she was keeping in. He didn't dare reach out his psychic sense to her. He made a promise. The next step was just to listen.

"Lenore can't know I spoke with Gwen, Dyl," she admitted. "She can't know anything at all, okay?"

"That doesn't sound like Gwen," he said.

"No, it doesn't; I-I am making the judgement call there. First, if Gwen is involved, you best believe your mom is in the mix. I don't want her to know," she said, before pulling his face closer to her own, their lips inches apart. When she started to speak, he was surprised he could hear it. It was below a whisper, and far beyond what his once human-like senses could comprehend. "I think Lenore is involved with something. There has been issues here for a while now and I don't trust her."

Dylan didn't move. Even with him blocking, and her doing the same, he couldn't help but feel her nervousness and fear. Yes, there was much fear. She was worried about more than just herself. Her body was tense, as if from that one phone call, a whole hell of a lot of responsibility had just fallen directly on her shoulders; it was too much weight for one person alone.

"Let me help you," he said, his breathe cooler than it used to be.

She shook her head no.

"Why not," Dylan asked, trying to keep her calm and keep the conversation on a light note. He may not use his psychic powers on her, but he was going to use his other abilities. He gave her a little nudge, his body softly knocking against her own, causing her to smile and push back.

"Oh you can't do that to me, Dylan, I know how you operate...but thanks for trying," Sonora smirked.

Dylan and Sonora had grown closer as friends through their time together and friends was all either of them wanted to be. After all, She was his training mentor and kicked his ass on a daily basis. In turn, he helped her while she was studying to finally earn her diploma. She kept him company and introduced him to all the others at the Nest, making it feel less of a prison and more of a college dorm setting. He kept her company when she was feeling down, which was often, even if it was just sitting in the same room with her working on his laptop. In actuality, Dylan was becoming increasingly concerned with her self-imposed isolation. Whether or not it was of her own doing or of some sort of mental depression, he wasn't quite sure, but he was felt that being with her helped.

"I can't let you be a part of this," she retorted.

"Sonora, I want to help _you_ and persuade _you_ to let me help. Besides, if my mother is involved with something, I _need_ to help. You get that, don't you," he pleaded. "Family and you is all I got here. I want to help but first I need to know what's going on."

She brushed back a stray piece of mahogany hair, exhaling softly.

"Fine, you can help," she relented. "We start tonight, but first, let me get you up to speed. Apparently, there's stuff about your family that we need to figure out."

* * *

Sam made his way over to the combo copier and fax machine at the gas station. Apparently, such extravagances were rare in the middle of nowhere. Good thing it only took an hour to get there, he mumbled to himself in his overtired state. He wasn't used to the whole late hours thing anymore, guess with a baby on the way he'd get back in the swing of things eventually.

Getting ready to fax and get the hell out of there, he reached into his pocket to find that he only had a five dollar bill and the machine only took change or dollar bills.

Super.

He walked up to the counter where two guys were turned, arguing about how to arrange the candy display on the back checkout aisle.

"Hey, can you guys break a five-Jesus, you guys _again_?"

The two male attendants turned around from their work behind the counter to face Sam. Yep. Even after all those years, Dean and Sam could not escape the constant meddling of The Ghostfacers in the supernatural line of work. They hadn't run into them in a long time, at least 16 years. The two boys still looked exactly the same, still wearing original Ghostbusters t-shirts under their name-embroidered gas station issued aprons.

"Well, well, Harry, look who it is," Ed elbowed his coconspirator in the side.

"Holy Grail, it's Sam Winchester, the douche nozzle. How the hell have you been? Is your older sister around," Harry sniggered.

Sam was glad Dean didn't hear that one, although he was one hundred precent positive Dean would have had some kick-ass comeback.

"Yeah-nice to see you guys, too. Now, what the hell are you two doing up here," Sam inquired, curious why they were hanging around middle-of-nowhere-Wisconsin. Seemed like a quite an odd destination for the two morons to travel.

"No, what are _you_ guys doing up here? I heard you guys were keeping a low profile, which has been awesome for our reps. Haven't seen you guys on cases for a while. You guys aren't moving in on our territory are you," Harry interrogated.

"We don't work much anymore," he admitted. "We're trying to stay home for once in our lives. Now, what are you guys doing here-and why are you dressed like gas station attendants?"

Harry and Ed admitted that they were working undercover. Apparently, there were some stories posted on their website's forum about some mysterious sightings and lights coming from the woods outside of Rhinelander, WI by some lake called Hiles Millpond.

"Most of the stories have come from people passing by, so we decided to work here a few days and talk folks. So far, a lot of locals have admitted there being some recent activity out in the woods close to the vicinity of an old, abandoned hotel. No one can pin down it's location. Apparently, it's pretty well hidden. It's a mystery," he waved his fingers. "We called the crew back home and I think we're going to try to investigate."

"Yeah," Ed said, pointing at the brothers, "We've got the location almost pinned down, so don't try to stick your Winchester noses-and your giant cranium-into it! This is strictly a Spangler and Zeddmore production."

"Oh, believe me, we'll be sure to avoid that train wreck. Try not to get yourselves killed. Now, can I get change for my five so I can make some damn copies and get out of here?"

"Sammy, what's the damn hold up-oh Christ," Dean said as he looked towards the counter, rolling his eyes. "God, these rejects again? Look, Sam after you deal with these ass clowns, we gotta go. She'll be wondering where we are at some point. And, you two...never mind, you'll just end up hurting yourselves anyway."

The two 'professional' ghost hunters scoffed as Dean stormed back out to the still running Impala, mumbling something about those two idiots ruining something.

"Yeah, I have to go, so can I get my money so I can get the hell out of here?"

* * *

"We need anything you can get us, Bobby," Dean pleaded over the phone as he drove. "Does _anything_ look familiar at all?"

"Not yet, son," he said, the sound of pages being shuffled in the background. "This is some strange writin'. Where'd you stumble across this?"

"It's not important right now," he stopped Bobby from inquiring further. "Look, if you can get anything from this or crack the code, man, you don't even know."

"All right, boy, if it means that much to you. How's the family? Has anyone come up with anything regarding Abby's situation," he asked.

Dean admitted that it seemingly had stopped altogether. Bobby voiced his suspicions.

"What's wrong with you, Dean? Have you lost your senses? Anyone harrassin' someone with letters for that long doesn't just give up. I'd keep an eye out. You need me up there, you call me. I'll be up there in a hurry. Got it?"

Part of Dean, the part he usually listened to, was telling him that Bobby should be up there right immediately, just in case. His gut feeling was urging him to say the words 'why don't you come up now.' The other part of him was saying why take the risk of Bobby driving all those hours by himself if they didn't need him? For fuck's sake, that man needed a break just as much as they did, and he definitely had more wear and tear.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered saying a quick goodbye before hanging up.

Bobby was right about the letter fiasco. It was wishful thinking on Dean's part that, just because it cooled off, that the situation diffused itself. He started to think maybe it was just a prank, maybe they had it all wrong. That couldn't be. Abby had been too scared and hid them too well in order for it to just be nothing. In that moment, he started to piece the events together: his accident, Ab leaving, Ab going rogue, the letters, Becky, Jo and Ellen-there was just too much in a short amount of time that they all were just coincidental.

Dean grabbed his phone and dialed Bobby's number.

"On second thought, how about you on come up here."

"O-K, why the sudden change of heart?"

"Call it a gut feeling. Be careful."

* * *

April was sitting on a hillside under a star-filled sky, waiting. It was so goddamn peaceful and quiet, kind of like the few nights she and Jesse and Wes had spent together, when she finally discovered who she truly was-no, _what_ she was. It was back when she was innocent and didn't know much about life or death. No, back then she was just an oblivious, stupid teenager.

Now, she felt as if she lived hundreds of years in the last couple.

"You ready," a voice said behind her.

"Jesse," she whispered, not turning to him. "How do you know he's dead?"

She finally twisted her face to look at him, the wind blowing tendrils of her dark hair across her face.

"I mean, did you see it happen," April questioned.

"No," he said, crossing his arms, walking towards her with his eyes to the ground. "No, I did not."

She pressed him, asking him how was he sure.

Jesse took a seat down beside her.

"The people he worked for-people I worked for-don't take betrayal lightly, April. They're not to be trespassed. You anger them, they'll come gunning for you. Believe me, I don't doubt that they are coming after me next. Which is why we need to do this quickly. I can't let my guard down for long but I will to help you."

"You seem so sure that he's gone, Jess. Is there something else you're not telling me?"

"I've tried to contact him, April. I remembered something I did once, one time when we were in trouble out on the battlefield. He'd go without hunting for days during the war. He was busy helping people on the field and, one day, he must have passed out from lack of blood. I lost track of him and the only way I knew he was still alive, somewhere out in the pile of dead bodies, was in his sleep. He was still dreaming, so he was alive. I learned to track him down that way. I mean, I could track him anywhere right now if I needed to...but, I can't feel his mind at all. Even when your mother is shielding, I can still _sense_ her. I used to be able to sense him even when he was awake. I've got absolutely nothing, April. Nothing. I'm sorry that I can't give you a better answer."

"It's okay," she sighed. "It's just hard for me to believe it if I didn't see it."

"Yeah, I know how you feel. Believe me, it's not like I didn't try to find him. He may have been an irritating pain in the ass-but...he's all I had left. My boyhood friend," he smiled, his eyes far off. "OK, enough of this, we've got to get going. So you really want to do this?"

She nodded, more determined than ever to look for the answer in her mother's mind. If she wouldn't give information outright, come Hell or high water, April was going to pry until she found it.


	36. Urgent

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

April woke up and reached for the notebook she had placed near the side of the bed.

She had to write anything useful down, any knowledge that her mom have unintentionally divulged during her slumber.

From what little had already scribbled out, she feared that the whole journey had been a total bust.

_Mom's Dream_

_Waiting at a dock in 1912 New York for news of the _Titanic_ sinking, checking a giant board of names_

_An argument between her mother and uncle in a room._

_Sitting on a bench in a park with her brother, he leaves her there. At night. She couldn't hear anything or make out particular words._

Random. Extremely random. One thing that was consistent: her Uncle James' presence.

It was odd to see him 'alive;' she had only known her uncle through stories and photographs. There were no videos of him, no live representation for her to truly have known him. So, to be able to see it through her mother's eyes, was simply amazing.

He hadn't been very tall, but appeared as a lanky, muscular young man. He seemed no older than a mid-twenty year old, however April knew better. The boy with the deep, dark eyes had seen more during his time on the Earth then many could hope to see into a few lifetimes combined.

In her mother's dreams, or memories for all April knew, he kept close to Abby and, even when he wasn't making physical contact, he posed a possessive air over his sister. She had the feeling that anyone who messed with her, clearly messed with him.

April and Jesse had just been observers in her mind, no direct interaction. They just let everything play out.

She had to admit, she liked viewing her mom in that time, in those clothes. Somehow, her daughter found it more fitting for her mother. Abby always had this refreshing coolness to her, but underneath her mother's modern attempt, was pure sophistication. Seeing her mother in neck-to-floor elegance with a plumed hat just proved it. It reminded her of the movie _Hello Dolly. _

There was nothing seemingly obvious in the dream. The pair had scanned the list at the dock, looking for a particular name of someone they knew. There was one thing though, one thing that wasn't entirely obvious except in hindsight, but April noticed because it reminded her of her own brother. He had searched the list, scanning, until he came to a name on the list of survivors and stopped. James' face changed. It was for a mere second, yet April could read him just as she could read Dylan; he was terrified. There was something on that register that worried him.

After that, when Abby asked him what was the matter, he just explained that the enormity of the tragedy was wearing on him. Abby bought it, but April knew that was a cover. No, there was something, or someone, on the roll call that scared the living Hell out of him.

How the fuck would April find something in that list? It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. On top of that, from what it seemed in the dream, even her mother didn't seem to know what was going on. Abby appeared just oblivious to the information that James knew in the dream-but maybe she also recognized it as some sort of message or sign. But, of what?

April didn't have an obvious reason for her mother's anxiety in the dream, no clear concession that she could jump off from. There was just a name out of several hundreds of names on a passenger survivor manifesto. Even that, April hadn't even seen what part of the list it was from, or how the giant board was organized. Nothing.

Super.

She glanced over at the clock. 6am. That took almost the whole night? It literally felt like five minutes, an action packed five minutes. Man, she was going to be dead for the rest of the day.

April got up and stretched out the kinks, heading down to the main room of the cabin.

Gwen and Cas were already seated at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking. Ruby was on the floor by the couch, laying down and trying to stretch out a crick in her back. Sam, who was usually the first one up, was no where to be found. Odd.

"Hey, Hell must be freezing over," Gwen joked. "Look who's up before 10am on a day off of school?"

"Good morning, April," Cas smiled warmly, his blue eyes flashing over his newspaper.

"Hi," she groaned, walking to grab a cup of java for herself.

When she realized Jamie wasn't around and asked the elders where her little brother ran off to.

"He woke Dean up at the crack of dawn to go fishing," Cas grinned. "I guess Dean and Sam didn't get in till like three this morning, so I'm sure he was really pleased to have a couple hours of sleep."

"Wow. Dad and Sam up that late on an off-hunt night? Doesn't sound like them," she mused before taking a sip of the tepid coffee.

"Your dad and uncle do like to hang out, you know," Ruby said mid-stretch. "They are brothers. Speaking of which, heard from Dylan lately?"

April shook her head no. She hadn't spoken to him since right after Prom, but she'd been meaning to get in touch with him. Truthfully, she should probably call him that afternoon-and see what he can find out at the nest. After all, if Gwen told Sonora, perhaps then Dylan could spy on Sonora and find out what she knew. Somehow, they needed to air out the dirty laundry.

"Mom up yet," she asked.

"She went for a run a little while ago," Gwen said, her aunt's eyes skimming over the entertainment section of the newspaper. "She might be back by now."

"Ok," April said, taking a piece of toast off of Cas' plate and she headed up to her parent's mini-cabin.

As she walked the aged wooden steps, up a small hill towards the cabin, she began to have doubts. Maybe she was wrong about her mom. Perhaps what happened the night before was just her own dream or maybe Jesse made something up to placate her. But, how could she have known what her late-uncle was like? He seemed so real and not what she had imagined.

April was second guessing herself and didn't know what to think.

Yesterday, she thought maybe her mom was up to something. Just the next morning, she thought maybe she should just ask her mother straight out: is there something going on with you?

"Mom, you home," she yelled as she opened the door. "Ma!"

No answer.

"Dad? You around?"

Nope. Still nothing.

'_Oh well, guess I'll just wait here,' _April said, plopping down on the couch.

She sat on the seat, putting her legs on the coffee table. Her feet moved back and forth, watching the pattern her shoes made as she blurred them back and forth. Her eyes shifted to an item on the coffee table. Her mother's laptop. Guess she could cruise the internet while she waited.

April picked up the computer and found that it was already logged onto the web. She opened the minimized window and gasped at what was being searched: passenger manifesto for the _H.M.S. Titanic._

She slammed the laptop shut and ran out of the cabin to call her brother.

* * *

In...out...in...out.

Her breathing matched the sway in her arms and legs, increasing her momentum as she ran. She needed a breather, sometime to herself. There were many times when what she needed was to just run away with music blaring in her ears. Right then, her MP3 player was on "Bad Medicine" by Bon Jovi. There was no good way to cure the blues than with 1980s rock n' roll.

And, oh man, she had the blues.

Her dream from the night before was wearing on her.

She did remember that day when she was waiting for her friend Mellie Walsh. The young human had gone on a trip to Europe to discover the world. Mellie had pleaded and begged Abby to join her for the adventure of a lifetime, and Ab had been all for it. It was James who had sternly said no, and at the time, she hated him for it.

"I forbid it," James had spat, standing over her as she lounged on the chaise in their living room.

"Forbid it," she scoffed, cooling herself with a hand-fan in the summer of 1911 since their air cooling unit was broken. "Really, Jamie, you must be kidding yourself."

"Oh but I'm not joking around, Abby. You are not going with Mellie to Europe! You will not step one foot out of the States!"

She stood up, standing on her tippy toes to be eye-to-eye with him.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do if I put my toe into Canada? Kill me," she asked, turning on heel and rushing out.

"Abby, you are not going and that's final!"

"You're my brother, not my father! How dare you order me around," she hissed back.

"Because you are all I have left and it's not safe for you to on your own and especially in Europe! You are not safe there!"

"Why? Why not?"

He threw his hands up.

"Mother just said to never go there, that includes both you and me! I'm not going to let you go run off and get hurt, Abby! Not after all this time! I didn't waste my life protecting you for nothing!"

The 'waste my life' part always got to her.

She had stopped at that point, her anger changing into sadness. Is that what he thought of her? Was she only a responsibility?

At that point in the argument in 1911, she gave in, promising that she wouldn't go to Europe. That left Mellie to venture through the history and culture of the Old World on her own...for almost one whole year.

In March, she had received word from her friend that she was to return to America in April on the fabulous ship, the _Titanic_. She asked to be met at the dock in New York on April 17th.

Abby planned to do just that, only on April 15th, the papers declared that _Titanic_ at sunk in an unforeseen, catastrophic disaster. Through a sea of a thousand people, mostly adorned in black, she navigated the pandemonium, trying to find any news of her dear friend.

No word yet. She just had to wait for the ship _Carpathia_ like everyone else for a word. When the ship arrived and they posted the list of survivors, Mellie's name wasn't on it.

"I-I don't see her name, Jamie," she sobbed, turning and grabbing a somber deckhand that had just exited the ship. "Excuse me, sir, have you seen a small red head, about 5 feet tall, brown eyes. She was on _Titanic_...I was hoping-"

He shook his head and walked away, muttering something about no hope.

Suddenly, James eyes stopped at a name, although she could not see anything.

"Is it Mellie," she thought, thinking that maybe he was just shocked at discovery her friend's name on the manifest.

"We have to go," he said, seizing her by the arm.

"Jamie," she squealed, batting his hand and pulling away. "What is wrong with you?"

James approached her, grabbing her hand with increasing intensity, fear in his eyes.

'_We have to go now. We're going home, packing up and heading West-right now.'_

Abby stared into his eyes, seeing the intense fear, his hand shaking her body.

"Fine," she said between wracking sobs, knowing that she probably had just lost her human friend. "Let's go. Where to this time? California? Oregon? Colorado? What are we going to call ourselves?"

They made plans as they made their way back to their brownstone.

What was that name he viewed? She had scanned the list seven times since she had gotten up that morning. There wasn't one name that rang a bell. Not one single name. What the hell did James know that she didn't?

'_Damn it, James, why did you always have to be so cryptic,' _she chided her late brother.

She'd have to figure it out later. For now, she would finish her run, then go back to spend time with her family, sneaking time to study the spells in her mother's book on the side.

So much to do, so little time.

* * *

Dean watched the line like it was about to snap any minute. He could relate.

Abby was already gone by the time he got up at the ass crack of dawn, Jamie knocking on his door to remind him that dad promised to take him fishing in the morning. He didn't doubt he made the promise, but the little dude didn't realize his dad had been up all night.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Huh?"

"You're sorta spacey today," Jamie laughed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Me and your Uncle were up way past our bedtimes," he smiled. "That's it. Don't worry about me. How did you fair here your first night? See anything strange?"

"Nope," he said, saying that he slept really well, which was great. It was nice to see something going well for someone. "Zac hasn't talked to me in a long time, actually and the last time I saw him-I told him to get bent."

Nice.

* * *

Dylan sat back, his hands behind his head.

"Ok, so my grandma comes here with my granddad from Europe to America-"

"Not even. They first arrived in the Caribbean and lived there for a bit. At least that's what it says in this report," she flipped him an old book which was falling to pieces at the binding. Sonora had found many ancient books in a secret vault. She used her particular skill-set to break in. To her surprise, many of the books had some things regarding his family that hadn't been disturbed in over 200 years. Why were they hidden away? Did they really have information regarding his past?

Sure enough, there in front of him was a short, unfinished history of Thomas and Anne Stuart. They once lived in the English New World colony of Port Royale for a short time before making their way to St. Augustine. Thanks to Thomas' partial Spanish heritage on his maternal side, it seemed they made complete safe passage.

Then the story went on to document a short synopsis his late-grandparent's time in the colony of Florida and their subsequent deaths. It was labelled by the locals as an accident, a terrible fire. Dylan knew better. They the victims of a terrible crime.

"So, there's nothing about my grandma before they came to the Caribbean," he questioned, finding it odd that the history just ended. "Nothing about her life before then?"

"Well," Sonora said, laying on her bed, reading a file. "It says your grandma was originally from England."

She flipped the file onto the floor, grabbing an even older book. She pulled out a yellow crinkled paper, more like a rolled parchment.

"Marriage certificate," she announced with skepticism.

Dylan looked up as Sonora sat up straighter on the bed.

"A Thomas Brian Stuart to an Ann Sybil Norris," she read. "Is Norris is your grandma's maiden name?"

"I don't know," Dylan admitted. "Mom never mentioned a last name at all. Maybe that is it. It's definitely something to make a note of." He said, marking it down on a yellow paper in his steno pad.

"Your phone's vibrating," Sonora said, being able to hear it in his bag from across the room. "Dare you to get it before me."

He smirked and zipped over to the bag, being knocked over by her before he could get his hands on it.

"Nice try," she smiled, tossing the phone to him.

"Hello," he answered gasping from his ordeal. "April! Hey, sis. What's up?"

"Dyl, I'm having some major issues," she sighed, sounding out breathe.

"Hey, you okay? You sound like you've been running," he said. "What is there to run from in Wisconsin?"

"No one is chasing me if that's what you're implying. No, I went on a run to get away from home for a while. Besides, I need to get some phone calls done without nosy people around. Jesse wasn't answering and I was meaning to give you a call anyway-Dyl, some weird shit is going on," April said.

She went on to describe her suspicions regarding their mother, including her misgivings about the dream the night before.

"Look, I know it was wrong of me to ask Jesse to do that and to just go into Mom's mind like that, but I had to find out _something_. I just want to know, did you hear anything from Sonora that came from Gwen?"

He admitted that he had, becoming more curious by the moment.

"Yeah, she did," he whispered, Sonora giving him a dirty look from across the room, giving him a signal to nix it. He motioned to her that it was all right and she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"So, what have you found out," April inquired.

"Not much yet," he sighed, explaining that their was a shitload of information they still had to go though.

"Anything on Caleb's friends," April asked, who must have obviously be eavesdropping on Gwen's side of the conversation with Sonora. "We've got a small list: Mom, Lenore, Declan, Donovan were the closest to him. From all we found out, Gwen didn't know him all that well. Those were the closest associates that we know of. So, take Mom out of the equation and we're down to three important people in his life. As far as Mom's fam, I haven't found much."

"Same here," she admitted with obvious frustration. "There was something in her dream about Uncle James finding a name on the _Titanic_ passenger survivor manifesto that creeped me out. It was the way he looked at it; he was so scared. I mean, what on Earth could scare a 200 year old vamp, right? There was _something_ on there, and you know what? I caught Mom checking out the list this online morning. There has to be something on there but finding one name out of over 700 people with a name we don't even know? It's like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. I checked the Stuart names on the registry and there was nothing that seemed to fit, but I have no other names."

He stopped, looking down at his grandparent's marriage certificate in his hand.

"Try the last name Norris," he said.

"Norris? Where'd you get that from," she asked.

"Call it a hunch."

* * *

Sam sat at the kitchen table with Dean, watching as his brother knocked back the fourth beer of the day, and it was only 1pm. Good start considering they both had about two hours of sleep the night before.

"Hey, you wanna slow down," Sam commented as Dean put the empty bottle on the table.

"Sure. Thanks, Betty Ford. I'll slow down when I know that nothing is going on. You know, there's only few things in my life that get me down and those things are," he stopped to hold up, counting on his fingers. "You, her and the kids. That's about it. So, yeah, I get pretty bummed when I think that one of them could be hiding something, you know?"

"Dean, maybe we still shouldn't jump to conclusions until we know what's in the book, you know," Sam said, reassuring Dean that perhaps there is an explanation for Abby's discretion. "For all you know, everything just could have been hiding the fact that she was bringing you up here or maybe that is a diary; just a journal that she doesn't want everyone to read."

"Oh come on, Sam," Dean yelled, shocking Sam. "Have you been sniffing glue? If it was a coded diary, why would she have to hide it? There is something in there that is important and she's trying to keep it from us. The million dollar question is why?"

Sam looked out the window, seeing Cas, Abby and Ruby on the speed boat dragging April, Gwen and Jamie behind on the tube. Good ol' family funtimes. Dean had told the group he wasn't feeling too well and wanted to stay on shore and Sam said he'd hangout with him. In reality, they were waiting for Bobby to arrive.

"So, you don't trust her anymore," Sam asked. Dean's brow furrowed, his eyes focusing on the table.

"I don't know, Sam," he admitted. "You know, part of me is tellin' me I should have the benefit of the doubt, that I should just ask her if something is wrong. But, then the other part of me, that part I used to trust when we'd be on hunts, is telling me somethin's up."

Sam knew Dean was itching to find out what was in that book. He had to admit he was curious too.

Beep. Beep.

"Hello, y'all home?"

Dean was the first to get up, walking to greet Bobby as he made his route up the driveway.

"Hey, boy," Bobby said, giving Dean a hug. "How ya holding up?"

"Eh," Dean shrugged. "I guess that depends what news you got for me."

"Sam," Bobby greeted, moving to hug the younger Winchester brother. "You ok?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Where're the rest of the brood," Bobby asked, looking around for everyone else.

Sam pointed out to the lake as the group zipped by on the boat. Dean suggested that, while everyone was still out, they move up to the smaller, farther cabin at the top of the hill.

"Wanna beer, Bobby," Dean said. Bobby nodded and Dean tossed him a cold one across the kitchen. They sat down at the table together, getting caught up in small talk before Dean asked the big question. "So, what did you find out?"

"Well, from what I gathered so far, it ain't Latin or Aramaic or Babylonian. This is just a coded message that, without the key, is gonna be hard to crack," Bobby described before taking a sip of beer.

Sam smirked.

"Sammy, if you say 'I told you so,' I'll smack you," Dean spoke.

"Play nice, boys," Bobby joked. "No, it's most definitely a code. I can tell you the layout of it is journal like and the pages in the back are laid out like spells, but I can't tell you what the hell kind of spells. Boys, this book was written by someone who didn't want anyone to be able to read it but the person who memorized a code. If Abby can read it, she's the only one of us who can."

"But, who says that she can read it," Sam conjectured. "I mean, maybe she's working on a case on her own and doing exactly what we're doing; trying to figure it out."

"Possibly," Bobby said. "Could be it...or, maybe it has something to do with those letters."

"Why would you say that," Dean asked.

"Did you even look on that page that you sent me, ya idjit? Look," Bobby said, pulling out the copy Sam had sent to him. "_Look_."

Very faintly, behind the actual handwritten text, was the image of the seal. It must have been drawn very lightly or scratched onto the page, only appearing when it was copied or held up to particular light.

"She must still be worried about it," Dean said, his eyes scanning the copy, before putting it down on the table. "Why wouldn't she say anything to us?"

"You know her, she's the same as you; she doesn't like to toss her problems on other people," Sam clarified.

"Ya, but we know what good that does us, right," Dean said.

"Sure, yeah it's not good, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't do it, Dean."

"Sam's right," Bobby jumped in. "Ab might just be investigating it herself-but-you know, I find it interestin' that she was pretty cool as a cucumber about it when the letters first showed up. Now, she's looking into it? Why?"

"Something must have happened," Dean muttered.

Sam knew that Dean really meant something happened that she didn't tell him about. He didn't know if it was the part that she was in trouble was bothering his brother more or the fact that should could be lying.

"So, after 1 day, I'm officially out of retirement. Awesome," his brother said, chugging back the remainder of his beer.

He could tell by the glaze in his brother's eyes that he was not happy about it.

* * *

Alice Norris.

Alice Norris was a key to the puzzle.

"What does she mean to your mother," Jesse asked, leaning over April's shoulder to read the page uploaded on the internet.

He sat back down in his chair next from her at that coffee house in town. Thank god they had Wi-Fi.

"She has something to do with my grandmother; they share her maiden name," she said.

"How'd you find that out," he asked with some surprise, as if he had tried to find that same information for a long time.

"I have my sources," she smirked.

The point was, if her uncle had been scared by the name of a family member, something was really wrong.

"So, what have you figured out," he asked.

"All I know is that this chick, this Alice, survived and landed in New York on the ship _Carpathia_. After seeing the name on there, he looked shocked and he said that they had to leave New York immediately."

"So, you think that this Alice Norris was some sort of threat," Jesse pondered aloud.

"That's my guess. I can't figure any other reason why, but I can't find any information on her at all. Another dead end," she said as she snapped her laptop closed.

"Hey, not a dead end," he grabbed her hands in his. "You did good. You know, you do make a great hunter."

"Thanks," she smiled.

It had taken her hours of looking in the registry until the wee hours of the morning, due to a terrible internet connection in her cabin, but she had finally found it. She had to be pretty stealthy with everyone hanging out in her cabin all night and even stealthier with her Uncle Bobby there now too. It was a game night, everyone playing cards and watching movies. Her mom had seemed totally at ease while her dad-now there was something eating at him. At one point, she had been so confused and unfocused on anything other than her sleuthing task, she accidentally moved her soda off the table with her mind.

"Oops, sorry," she said as she cleaned up the spill with a paper towel. "I must have knocked it with my foot on the table."

"Your foot was nowhere near it," Jamie had said, questioning why it really happened.

Everyone stopped playing, a stillness in the air.

Jamie looked around, noticing the strain.

"I meant I must have kicked the table, J," she smiled.

"OH, okay," he said. "For a minute I thought you were crazy."

Everyone laughed with relief and continued on with what they were previously doing.

April had smiled and continued doing her research secretly on her laptop, erasing the history with every search. After all, if her mom looked on there and saw what she had been searching, she would have realized something was up.

The next morning, she had called Jesse and wanted to let him know that the dream had worked to some extent. He agreed to meet her at the small town's main coffee shop.

"Are you free," she had asked over the phone. "I know you had a lady friend with you before-"

"She wasn't a _friend_ necessarily. I'll refer to her as associate and, for your information, I was watching someone who was to be transferred to a sort of witness protection program. She got picked up to where she needed to go. Your mother's nest was kind enough to give her sanctuary."

"Did someone from the nest pick her up," she asked.

"Yes. Some guy named Donovan."

* * *

Lenore. Donovan. Declan. Caleb's closest associates, and those you could have known his secret plans. It was those plans that led his parents to join forces in Chicago, fighting his evil gang of vampires. They also may have known exactly what may have gone down in Red Lodge, Montana.

Dylan had read both case files over and over-well the official nest case profiles. Like Sonora had mentioned, things weren't meshing.

"Your mom and Caleb were gold up until Montana," she said, sitting next to him on the couch. "Why would he just go crazy like that?"

"Almost dying would do that to you and if Gordon was after them-

"From the looks of these photos, Dyl, I don't think this was Gordon Walker was the assassin."

Dylan looked at her funny.

"Come on, even my dad said Gordon was the killer in Red Lodge," he laughed. "I trust my dad."

Sonora said she never said Gordon wasn't killing in Montana, she just said that he didn't kill Caleb and the rest of the nest that initially settled there.

"Look. First he goes there with a number of nest members. They get killed. Lenore and some nest members move there to investigate. Gordon had tracked Caleb's nest to Red Lodge and found Lenore instead. Dean and Sam go there to investigate beheadings and cattle mutations...and you know the rest. The point is, Gordon got there LONG after Caleb had died; he wouldn't have been in Red Lodge yet. From my notes, he was always at least two weeks behind, thus making him four weeks behind Caleb, two weeks behind his death. Someone or some other group did it. Plus, the way the vamps with Caleb were killed were not Gordy's style. Look at these photos."

Sonora held a photograph out between them at a distance so they could see everything, taking in all the elements. She asked what he saw.

"Scorch marks, dead vampires with no head-"

"What else," she ordered.

That's when he noticed silver chains, barely shiny from the burn marks.

"Chains?"

"Does that look familiar," she asked.

"Iowa. That case with the vampires in Iowa not too long ago."

"Yep," she said. "Good job."

Dylan asked if she thought they were the same group and she said that there was a good chance. After all, why couldn't they be the same? Whoever they were, they had full knowledge on how to kill the undead.

"Whoever they are, my guess are super hunters-like we're talking at your dad's level, which is super rare or-"

"They're also vampires," he whispered in realization. "They know the best ways to kill and torture first hand."

She smiled at him, commending him for figuring it out. Sonora commented on how she found it odd that Lenore didn't investigate that theory during her time in Red Lodge. All the signs were pointing to something odd. That just didn't sit right with her.

"I don't trust it, Dylan. Seriously, her orders right now cannot be trusted. If your mother is in trouble, I wouldn't put it past Lenore to be a part of it."

Lenore? His aunt had been around since he was a little boy and had only been nice to him. How could she have been involved with a deception and still hang out with his family? If that was true, it was completely messed up.

Sonora jotted down the points and got back to unearthing more information regarding Lenore, Declan and Donovan's past. He put his nose in his files, trying to find more information on Alice Norris. Thanks to his sister's investigating, he now had a name to put to the test.

* * *

"Are you ready to go back," Gwen said, basking in the sun, her toenails going from natural to a bright pink with every stroke of her nailbrush.

"No," she said, meaning that very word.

"Two days until sweet home Chicago," her friend smiled.

"Yeah. It'll be good to be home," Abby said, forcibly keeping her voice with a happy tone.

"It's been a great 12 days, my friend. Thanks for inviting me and Cas."

"You're welcome."

Besides her impending future, she had to admit, she was so grateful to have such memories with her family. Great meals. Wonderful times on the water during the day and warm campfires at night. Those were memories she would take with her to wherever she was headed.

It wasn't necessarily the fact that she was going to have to leave her family for a little while at most-she hoped, it was mostly the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow.

"Hey, Ab, you there," Gwen questioned, waving her hand in front of Abby's sunglass covered eyes. "You're spacing out on me here."

"Blame it on the sun and the booze, hun," she smiled in reply.

"I'll drink to that," her friend grinned, raising her glass in a toast.

Abby followed suit, clinking her friend's drink and knocking one back.

"So, you and Cas seem to be going pretty well," Abby remarked.

"Yeah. It's great, Ab. Honestly, I think he's _it_."

"Well, I'll offer this advice, kid. Guys that you want to be with forever don't come around very often. They're one in a million. Take your shot with him while you still have one. If you let them go through your fingers, there are a ton of wonderful experiences you will miss out on," she advised.

"Like you and Dean," Gwen said.

Yes. Just like herself and Dean.

Her stomach twisted just at the mere mention of his name. How could she keep what she was going to have to do from him? Every moment she was with him, every breathe they shared in their presence-it was eating away at her.

Then again, she didn't know what exactly to tell him. It was just as much as a surprise for her as it was going to be for him. She only hoped that all her planning had paid off.

She memorized the spells that her mother wanted her to, the ones marked with a heavy red ink. They were mostly incantations involving blood, no other ingredients needed. All she would need was a makeshift knife to carve markings into her flesh. The only problems were, they were not clearly marked as to their intentions. Abby would have to choose one on the fly and pray that it worked.

"So, I say on our last night, we head out to the bar," her vampire friend said, leaning over to finish painting her toenails. "April can stay here and watch -"

"Watch who," April smiled, her feet clunking down on the wooden dock.

She bent her knees, taking a spot next to her mother on a towel. Very softly, she leaned against Abby, putting her head on her shoulder. Abby smiled and put her arm around her daughter, giving her a kiss on the side of the head.

"You okay, honey," Abby muttered.

April didn't answer at first. Her daughter bit her lip, as if to say or ask something very important, before shrugging nonchalantly.

"God, I wish people would stop throwing their garbage in the water," April said, nodding towards a piece of debris floating in the water.

Abby sniffed the air. That wasn't garbage. Gwen must have done the same.

The three of them looked into the water as the debris floated closer to shore. From the looks of it, it was just an extra large trash bag, but with her vampire eyes, she could see a slight wisps of blonde hair. With her nose, she smelled the distinct aroma of human flesh.

"DAD," April yelled, jumping up and running to get Dean, who would no doubt bring Sam done as well.

"Abby-a body?"

Not just any body. A metallic object glimmered in the light. It was just a flash in the sun, a small signal but it was enough to get her attention. It was a medallion of the three moons of Hectate. She had seen that same symbol just a week before in a bar.

'_Hannah.'_

Her phone vibrated on the dock. Abby cautiously picked it up and read the text message.

_We know where you are. _

_This is a warning._

_Don't try to out run us-or someone more important may share the same fate._


	37. Welcome to the Fold

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS A LONG ONE. A LOT OF THINGS WILL START TO HAPPEN VERY QUICKLY AT THIS POINT IN THE STORY. :-) ENJOY!_**

"We'll be in touch. Thank you for your time, m'am," the cop said, tipping his hat to Abby, the metal on his hat glinting in the dwindling daylight. She nodded, secretly fiddling with the silver necklace in her palm. Before the cops had arrived, Abby had pocketed the jewelry. She knew what would have happened when Dean and Sam had seen it; they would have recognized it, knowing who it belonged to and gotten way too involved.

Besides the unique metal necklace, there was little left to identify. Her face had been eviscerated beyond recognition. From the look of it, Hannah had been beaten, tortured and killed with immense brutality. All Abby could think of was that it was all because the girl had given Abby what little knowledge she had out of guilt. Hannah had been repentant. Now-

"You okay," Dean asked, putting his arm over her shoulder.

"Yeah, fine," she replied. "You?"

"Not the first dead body I've seen. It has been a while though," he murmured. "Poor kid."

"Yeah. We should thank Cas for having the forethought to keep Jamie inside. He didn't need to see that."

Neither did April, he reminded her, a hint of sadness in his voice. It was something they both wanted desperately to deny. Even so, there was no hiding the fact that April was more like her parents. Their baby girl was a hunter and had already seen death up close and personal. If they could only keep J away from the same fate. That's what Dean begged for; just one kid that didn't have to be subjected to the horrors of the hunter lifestyle.

"Maybe we should go back tonight," Dean suggested. She stiffened under his grasp, her mind going back to the text she had previously received and promptly deleted:

_We know where you are. _

_This is a warning._

_Don't try to out run us-or someone more important may share the same fate._

She had tried calling the number listed on the text for shits and giggles. Not entirely surprisingly, it was listed as an out-of-service number.

"No, no, I think we need one more night for us big kids to get out," she said, also reminding him that the cops said they had to stick around just in case there was questioning. Once they had fingerprints, if they weren't torn or singed off, Dean and Sam would discover something was up.

Her idea was met with hesitation; Dean fumbled with the idea of leaving the kids alone after the discovery of a body in their lake. Abby tried to sway him, saying that they knew nothing about the situation and it may have just been some random accident. Her stomach turned with every lie.

"It's not like Ruby could go out to the bar," she reminded him. "And, April is more than capable of handling herself. Hon, it's our last night here-I think we should have a little fun. Please?"

He stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, his posture morphing from stoic to calm. He was giving in.

"There you go biting your lip again. God, you know I can't say no when you beg. You're such a little manipulator. All right-all right," he paused, flashing her that adorable grin of his. "Ruby, A.C and Bobby stay here with J. We'll go out with the rest of 'em."

She put her arms over his shoulders in an embrace. Internally, she was thanking him for being such a pushover when it came to her. Abby needed that night. One more night of fun before she had to go, a memory of good times with her friends and man.

"All right, tomorrow we go out, then we leave that next morning. Got it," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she kissed his cheek, doing her best not to shake under the added stress of yet more lies. Abby would have to remember to kiss him a lot more those two days without being too obvious. Couldn't arouse too much suspicion.

She had a feeling, with Dean around, that was going to be very difficult to avoid.

* * *

"Find anything, Bobby," Sam asked as the two of them conferred at the kitchen table.

"Nope. Nadda. It's been weeks, boy and we've got diddly squat," Bobby said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. "Look, without askin' her, we ain't gonna know."

"Dean doesn't want to bring anything up unless we know for sure we don't have anything."

"Well, we're there now, Sam. We've got shit. All we've got is random spells with no meaning cause we don't have the key. Maybe it's time you boys get your act together and go talk to the girl and just ask."

Sam scanned the paranormal tracking system again, just in case he had missed something obvious. Ever since Ash created it, Sam had found the computer program to track weather anomalies and celestial phases incredibly useful. He hadn't stopped looking at it since they had discovered the dead body that afternoon. There was just something off about the whole situation.

The death wasn't natural by any stretch of the imagination.

No electrical storms in the area. No catastrophes. Nothing.

There was one thing: the Dark Moon was next week. Did that correlate at all?

"You gonna join the brood down at the fire," Bobby asked.

Sam looked down at his family gathered around the campfire. Gwen sat on Cas' lap, her hand tenderly rubbing his knee. Abby and April were tossing marshmallows at Dean, who was yelling at them for wasting awesome food. Jamie and Ruby had tossed a beer bottle into the fire and were watching it melt, they looked as if they were engrossed in deep conversation.

Something told Sam he shouldn't interrupt that moment. His family, his whole family, was happy. Even if it was fleeting, that was more than enough for him.

"We need to dig a little more while we still can, Bobby," Sam admitted, planting his position on the dilemma. "We need to find something. If we don't find something by tomorrow night, I'll talk to Abby myself."

* * *

A hand clamped over his mouth.

His eyes snapped opened and gazed into dark eyes. Her finger was poised over her mouth, reminding him to be quiet.

"Get up," she muttered. "We're going."

"Where," he asked.

"There was a death up in Wisconsin. I intercepted an order that Donovan was supposed to pick some chick from there. I'll explain the rest in the car. Right now, we have to get up there."

He nodded while she tossed him a bag filled with his stuff. Dylan hastily put on his shoes as she gestured for him to follow her.

She peered down the hall, signaling for him to remain out of sight until she gave him the cue.

With no one in view, they made it undetected out to her car.

She turned it over quickly and gunned the engine, heading towards the freeway at speeds far exceeding the legal limit.

"You want to talk now," Dylan questioned.

"Well, the chick that Donovan was supposed to pick up? Yeah, there was no word on him picking her up...and then I'm scanning police reports up there, because I'm worried about your mom-there was a girl found dead in a lake in the same county near your family."

Dylan straightened up, his body tense with nervousness. Who was the person in the lake?

"It's not any of your family," she consoled, obviously sensing his change in energy. "I made some calls with my own contacts and had someone see who it was. They said it was an unknown blonde, Jane Doe. I found out about the killing from Gwen, so don't worry about that. Either way, I don't feel what's going on up there is good."

So that's why the secrecy? Sonora didn't feel the nest, who had probably sent Donovan to get the girl, wasn't trustworthy.

"How long till we get there," Dylan asked.

"About seven hours. We should get there by late morning," she said, shifting gears once again. "Make that six and a half. The sooner we get there, the better."

* * *

Dean lounged in the wooden chair on the dock, watching the water move below. Odd to think that the calm water had recently been part of a crime scene. The sun was straight overhead. Noon. He would normally say 'it's 5 o'clock somewhere' and grab a beer, but after what happened last afternoon, he didn't really feel like drinking. Well, that wasn't true, he did feel like it but he thought it best to be sober and keep on his toes.

"Hey," Sam said, taking seat next to his brother. "Ready to go out tonight?"

"I don't know-not really I guess. I wouldn't but Abby really wants to so...guess I have no choice, right?"

"Yeah, you know, I think it's best of I stay here and hang with the kids and Ruby," he said.

"Yeah, if you think it's best. Guess it's better to have you around here for protection."

"You're really worried about something happening," Sam inquired and Dean nodded.

Yep. Dean had that familiar sinking feeling, the one in the pit of his stomach. He was damn sure something was going to happen.

Sam sighed, rubbing his hands on his face.

"Dean, I have to tell you something,"

He turned to his little brother and listened as Sam released pent up misgivings regarding Abby. Sammy had dreams about her, not exactly knowing what was going on through them, but knowing that something was seriously wrong. In truth, from the screams and shrieks that have been going on in his sleep, it wasn't good at all.

"So, you've had your freaky deeky premonitions again," Dean asked with disdain, looking sternly at his brother. "When did this start?"

"To be honest-on and off since your car accident...don't be angry," Sam tried to explain.

"Angry, Sam? Oh, I'm not angry," he said, gripping the chair. "I am fucking furious! That far fucking back? This would have been good to know like back when I started to freak out about this. What did you see in your dream?"

Sam explained that he had never literally seen anything in the dream; it was all sound, as if he was blindfolded. He wished he had more to offer Dean with specifics.

"Believe me, I wish I could tell you more-"

"Could you tell who was screaming," Dean said, staring down at the water.

"Sounded like a female...that's all I could tell. Maybe it's not a premonition, Dean. Maybe it's just me freaking out and having dreams before being a dad? We don't know," Sam tried to console.

He thanked Sam for trying. Sure, it could have been all coincidence, but if they started around the time of the car accident that almost left himself immobile, and later almost ruined his marriage and life-it was just too much to be coincidence.

Dean asked if Bobby and him had any luck.

"No. I think, and I know you don't want to hear this, but I think we need to talk to her..."

"_Sam_-"

"No, Dean. Listen, we're not going to find anything out unless we talk to her. If you don't want to do it-"

"Sammy, no you won't. Look," he said, sighing and rubbing his eyes. "I'll do it. Tonight, I'll take her aside and let it all out. All right? You happy?"

"No, I'm not happy," Sam said, getting up in a huff. "If something is wrong, I'm not happy that I'm getting my way. This is just something that needs to happen-for all our sanity's sake."

He'd drink to that.

* * *

They were only a few towns over from his folk's cabin when Sonora's car started to sputter. The light was blinking, the alarm dinging throughout the car.

"_Shit_," she cursed, banging her hands on the steering wheel. "Guess we can't make it, we have to stop."

Sonora pulled the car over, making sure her lapis lazuli bracelet was secure on her wrist, before putting her sunglasses on and getting out of the car.

"I'm going in to grab a few things, you pump the gas," she ordered through the driver's side window.

"Yes, sir," he smiled and saluted, causing her to roll her eyes.

Dylan got out of the car, delighting in the little bit of stretching he could get. They were almost there. He'd get to see his dad, mom, brother and sister. Screw the random girl who'd died; he was more into seeing his family alive and well, as well as safe. They were _safe_.

Why wouldn't they be? Between his mom, dad, uncle and sister, they were a freakin' army.

He pumped the gas and waited-and waited.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty.

At about fifteen minutes late, he started to glance at his watch every few minutes. Then, at over twenty late, he couldn't stop staring at it.

Something in the air changed. Tension. Pain. Anger.

Something was very wrong.

Before he was only thinking about his family. Now, it was about his partner.

Sonora. Sonora. Sonora.

He rushed into the gas station at human speed.

"Hey," he addressed the two men with their back's turned behind the counter.

No answer.

"HEY!"

"What do _you_ want," the cashier snapped.

"Listen," Dylan stared at the name embroidered on one of the shirts. "Ed. Did you see a girl come through here?"

"You mean that _fox_? Yeah, she hauled ass to the ladies' room," the man with the glasses answered.

"Thanks," he replied. "You didn't see me here."

"Pardon," Harry asked, shifting his gaze between Ed and Dylan.

Dyl stared steadily into their eyes, their pupils becoming large and wide as he began to influence their thoughts.

"You-both of you-didn't see me here or the girl. Stay here."

"Sure," Ed shrugged, going back to work.

Dylan darted to the women' restroom door. He didn't bother to knock, thinking it best to shockingly barge right in.

It was a typical multiple stalled, gas station bathroom. He visually scanned the area, hoping to find anything that would have revealed that someone had recently been in the space. All that he could see was the chipping linoleum tile and ancient commode, nothing seemingly important enough to take notice.

He checked underneath the stalls for any sign of patrons. No feet.

"Sonora," he whispered, pausing to see if he heard a response.

No answer.

"Sonora?"

Still nothing.

Dylan turned around, deciding to take a peek in the mens' bathroom.

There was a different feel coming from that room. Tension emanated from the room. Whatever was going on in there, it wasn't good. He braced himself for what he might find.

He walked in.

"_Don't_ move."

A man stood on the other side of the restroom, one arm wrapped around Sonora's mid section, the other wrapped around her mouth. Her scream was muffled under the force of his hand. She struggled in his grasp, doing her best to push him away.

"_Ow you stupid, bitch_," he shrieked, as her canines poked through his hand. Blood dripped from both his injured hand and her lengthened fangs.

In the brief moment he let her go, she zipped back to where Dylan was poised.

"You okay," he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll heal."

"You kids are _dead_," the man smiled with sinister intentions, wiping the blood off his hand, his own canines popping out from the smell of the liquid.

Dylan placed Sonora behind, putting himself in harm's way, his fierce protectiveness for her coming through.

"Stay away," Dylan commanded. The itching of his canines was almost unbearable within his gum-line, a sensation he had never felt in the heat of battle.

"Oh please, newbie," the vampire scoffed. "You've only been one for a few months, and your nosy little bitch had only been one for a hundred years? There's no way that either of you can beat me-and there's this."

He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Dylan, who didn't react. With an evil grin, the vampire shifted the gun and his intentions to Sonora.

'_A gun? A gun can't hurt a vampi-'_

Bang.

Sonora gasped, her hand instantaneously clutching her thigh. She released her leg to reveal the wound was bleeding-profusely.

"Dy-lan," she screeched, tumbled to the ground. He was there to snatch her before her head struck the blue tiled wall. As his hand grabbed onto her, another blast cut through the air, followed by a tremendous searing pain in his shoulder.

It was a torment he'd never felt before. He'd heard it described but never expected the explosion and tearing that ripped through his body.

He heard Sonora's muffled howling, though he wasn't sure if it was in response only her pain. Dylan slumped down against the wall under his dead weight, crashing to the floor before being caught by strong arms to his left.

"Dyl? Dylan, answer me," she ordered.

He muffled something that was reminiscent 'I'm alright,' but was more than likely an incoherent grumble.

"Dylan, babe, stay with me," she whispered.

He groaned as something was pressed down on his shoulder.

"Stay the fuck away," he heard her yell. "_Why_, Donovan?"

"Why _not_? Look, this situation is much bigger than the pissy little nest, or his godforsaken freak show of a family! You and your boy-toy just had to interfere, sticking your dainty little noses in places they are not welcome. We've come too far for you two to fuck it all up now. You're coming with me."

"You wanna bet," she hissed, the pain on his own arm becoming more intense.

"Yeah I do, $100 on the older, wiser, bigger vampire with the silver-tipped, vervain-infused wooden bullets for the win. Get up," he demanded.

Dylan was still discerning everything in a haze, his throbbing shoulder pulsing through his veins.

"I can't stand up," Sonora grunted, slipping down the tiled partition. "Maybe you should have thought about mobility before you shot me in the fucking leg, asshole."

"Well then get _him_ up and use _him_ for support," he added.

"He's really hurt, Don. He's bleeding very bad-"

The answer to her pleading was the click of a gun being cocked.

"Get him up or I will fucking make it worse."

She hissed at her own pain, shifting to lift him from her scatheless side. With a grunt, she placed his uninjured arm over her own shoulder.

"Come on," she grunted, standing up on one leg, lifting them both up. "Let me lean on you and you lean on me, got it?"

He fussed, his eyes opened in slits.

"Ladies first," their captor spoke.

Sonora pivoted them towards the door, reiterating that Dylan had to stay coherent.

"I need you right now," she whispered.

He gathered what strength he had, the vital fluid flowing down his arm, his shirt damp and clammy from it's expulsion. One foot in front of the other, he forced himself to keep going, maintaining a tight grip on Sonora with his intact arm. In that moment, he made a decision; if Donovan was to shoot again, he was going to get in front Sonora and push her out of harms way. He was worse off than she was; maybe it would give her a chance to get to safety.

"Get in," the elder vampire ordered, followed promptly by the sliding of a van door.

He scooched in face-first onto the dusty van floor, groaning as his shoulder grazed the uneven floor.

"It's okay," Sonora reiterated as she moaned from her own injury. She skid in beside him, rolling him over, placing his head on her good thigh.

"Let's just hope he doesn't bleed out by the time we get to where we are going. Shall we," Donovan scoffed, slamming the door shut. The engine to the van hesitated briefly before fully turning over. With a lurch, they were off to some unknown destination as hostages.

Dylan looked up to Sonora, her eyes glazed over-or were his own they ones that were blurry? It was hard to distinguish.

"I'm going to keep talking to you, so you stay up, alright," she smiled at him. "We'll get you some blood when we get to where we need too. Until then, we need to stop the bleeding."

She bent back and took off her shirt, leaving her in a white camisole, her darker bra showing through underneath. Sonora took her top and wrapped it tight around his injury.

He hissed at the strain.

"Goddamn," he griped. "Take it easy on there. _Christ_."

"Sorry, we need it tight to alleviate the blood flow as much as possible. The silver and wood pierce the flesh and make it unable to heal well and the vervain just makes it worse."

"How are you," he whispered.

"I won't lie, it hurts like a bitch, but I think I'll be fine once I get some blood in me. I stopped the bleeding with my belt. Oh yeah, by the way, always where a belt when you can for these types of situations," she managed a grin. "Probably should have told you about that before we left, huh?"

He chuckled a little, remarking that it indeed would have been good information in their current state.

Dylan asked Sonora if she had any clue of where they were heading; she had no idea. There was no place up north that the nest had procured as a hideout, so any other vampire hotspot was news to her. She was just as clueless as he was. On top of that, she was afraid. If her shaking body didn't say it, her aura did. Dylan could feel it, the usually cool and calm girl was scared shitless. She draped her arm protectively over his neck, careful not to injure him more.

He reached up, taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze. It was a gesture to say he was going to be okay-_they_ were going to be all right. If only he believed it himself.

* * *

"Is that my shirt, Mom?"

Abby turned around, biting her lip in guilt.

"Do you mind, hun," she asked, smoothing out the deep plum tank top. "It's really cute."

"Nah, I don't mind," she smiled, plopping on the bed as her mom got ready. It was a couple's date night, the last before they were to head back home. It really stood for the last chance for random drunkenness and reckless, passionate abandon for the legal adults. She'd be sure to keep her headphones on that night, lest she wanted to hear some hard core boot knockin' from Gwen and Cas' room. She praised god that her parent's had their own love nest far away from her.

Her mother grinned down at her before unexpectedly jumping on the bed, forcing April to roll over onto the bed. They laughed together as April righted herself.

She was instantly in her mother's arms. April responded in turn, putting her arms around her mom's shoulders.

"I love you, baby," Abby said, her fingers combing through her daughter's hair. "The day you and your brothers were born were the happiest moments of my life."

"I love you too, Mom," she whispered, surprised at her mother's candor. Sure, Abby Winchester was never one to hold back emotion, but it had been a while since her mom had uttered such sentiments to her so outwardly.

She pulled back, her mom's eyes glistening with sadness.

"Mom, everything all right," she asked, pushing the hair out of her mom's eyes.

"Yeah," Abby wiped the tears from her eyes. "This time up here has just been great. I don't think we've had this much time...normal time, as a family for a long time. I think with all the craziness that was going on, we needed it."

"Yeah," April agreed.

She studied at her mom's face, her makeup now down under her eyes. April shot off the bed and quickly grabbed her makeup kit, moving to sit back in front of her mother.

"Whatcha doing," Abby laughed as April blotted under her parent's eyes.

"Your makeup is all jacked. I'm going to fix it and you'll look hot as hell. Trust me, I'm a pro," April winked.

Abby gave in and let April re-do her makeup. It was weird having the roles reversed, finally having something to give her mom in return-even if it was just cosmetic tips.

* * *

"Oh come on and dance with me," Abby said after a few shots at the bar.

"No," Dean smiled. "There's no way."

"Please, baby," she smirked.

"Nope. You know me, I'm not a dancin' type of guy. I'm more of a lets-get-toasted-and-make-out type of bar guy. I think after ten years you would have seen that," he remarked.

"I knew that after about ten seconds. I just thought maybe you'd man up," she teased.

Nope. He was the same guy he always was; chugging back his El Sol and staying put at the pub table.

"Fine. Cas?"

"Sorry, Ab, I'm not much of a dancer myself," Cas smiled, his hand nervously running through his hair. "We didn't really-dance where I came from."

"Fine, no biggie. Gwenie, honey pie, it's just me and you," Abby yelled across the bar.

Gwen threw her hands up and shrugged from the other side of the room by the mp3 jukebox. She put in some money and punched in some numbers.

The first notes of "Shoot to Thrill" came over the speakers. Good song.

Abby turned back around towards him, putting her hair up in a ponytail and signaling for him to come out with her.

Once again, he shook his head no.

She stuck out her tongue and ran out to join Gwen, who was already on the dance floor, getting down with her bad self.

Abby moved on the floor with her vampire friend with grace, in perfect tune with the rhythm of the song. Every now and again, she'd give him a look over her shoulder. It was always out of the corner of her eye, like she was saying 'are you watching this?' It was a little game she liked to play, call it the pre-game. It was foreplay in and of its self.

"Abby looks very calm, like she's having fun," Cas said before taking a sip of his beer. "I haven't seen her so very carefree in a long time."

A 'yeah' was all Dean could muster. Carefree appearing or not, she was still hiding something. He started to tear the label off his beer.

The two guys hung out while their girls danced on and it wasn't until many AC/DC, Bon Jovi, .38 Special and Bad Company songs later, he decided it was time to speak with her. It was just eating at him too much.

He got up and pushed his way through the crowd, getting to Abby as she rocked out to "Feel Like Making Love."

She spun around and grabbed him around the neck, pressing her mouth firmly against his, her tongue gently caressing his lower lip.

He gazed down at her, trying to be unswayed by her flirtatious advances.

"We need to talk," he leaned in, whispering in her ear during the loud music.

"Who's we," she asked in her intoxication.

"Me. You. Talk. Now," he gestured towards the back of the bar.

"Fine."

He gently took her hand, leading to the rear of the building. They stood together in the far left corner. Dean struggled to find the right words. Right or not, he had held them in for too long. Before he knew it, they were spewing out on their own accord.

"What's going on with you," he asked.

"What do you mean?" She looked him dead in the eye.

"You _know_ what I mean."

"No, I don't believe I do," she got defensive, crossing her arms over her chest.

Talking wasn't about everything that happened wasn't going to get them anywhere. It was time for Plan B.

Dean pulled on the silver talisman resting on her chest, the one she used to shield her mind and stop herself from delving into people's business. He reached around her neck, unlatching the clasp and held it in his hand.

"Look," he ordered, pointing towards his forehead.

She tilted her head at him in confusion, then her eyes widened before turning into slits. Abby was seeing the big picture though his eyes. From the night of prom all the way up until his conversation with Sam; it was all out on the table.

"You went through my stuff," she asked, her voice quivering with uncertainty.

"Well you left it kinda out there...if you meant to hide it, you did a shitty job. You know, it's kinda my job to find things that others don't-"

"No, it's not! You said no more hunting! Your job, Dean, is you run a fucking hole-in-the-wall garage! How dare you go through my stuff...and give some of the pages to _Bobby_? You had no right," she pushed him a little on his chest.

"What's so goddamn important in there?"

"I don't _know_," she answered.

"Come on, Ab! No more fucking around! What is in that book?"

"I. Don't. _Know_," she yelled, causing a few people to turn around and pause in their activities. Their altercations was arousing suspicions from the regular bar patrons.

"Oh, sonofabitch, come on! _Yes you do_!"

"No I don't," she spat, her fangs just on the brink of appearing. That had only happened once before in a fight between them. They only just came out when she was on the edge of losing control.

"Fine, you don't," he recanted. "But if you don't know, why the fuck hide it? Huh?"

"I couldn't make out the first part, ok? There was nothing in there. That book that you so unceremoniously snooped through? That was my mother's! It was her journal-she left it to me."

Oh.

"Your dad left you his journal, and it's important to you; his lasting words are important to _you_. I wouldn't' ever, and I mean _never_, just take his book from you and make copies of if for someone!"

"I-I didn't kno-

"No, you didn't know but, hey, your 'hunter' instinct kicked in and you investigate me; just like any other vampire right? Am I right?"

More people were starting to take notice.

"Honey, calm down. You have to stay quiet. Yelling vampire in here is like yelling fire in a crowed theater, alright? Let's go outside."

She pushed passed him, walking out first, Dean following close behind.

"Hey is everything ok," Gwen approached them on the way out.

"Fine," Abby muttered.

They walked out towards the parked Impala, she choosing to lean against the car, her arms crossed, her head tilted back to gaze at the stars.

"All the goddamn secrets and lying...I knew we were never going to get passed it," she complained.

"It's the nature of our lives I guess," he admitted, resting against the car beside her. There was a strain between them, something he was used to with other girls he'd been with previously. It was the whole 'part of my life isn't for you' feel. How could that be after all that time? It _was_ their lives. Without that part of his existence, he would have never known about her. "I didn't mean to snoop. I just found it and I saw the language on it and thought that you were in trouble."

"If I were in trouble, you'd know," she sighed.

"No, I wouldn't. See there's this thing where we both like to keep people from our problems-and I'm not blaming you for it. I'm the same way. I just wouldn't want you in a situation you couldn't get out of."

She began to laugh.

"Oh, Dean. There is never a situation I couldn't get out of," she smiled, keeping her eyes on the stars. "Beautiful night. The stars out here are amazing."

"The moon is getting darker. Have you noticed? Sammy says there's a Dark Moon this week."

"I'm sure there is."

She lowered her view and stared down to her feet, drawing circles with the tips of her boots in the sand, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

"The first part of the book was my mom's diary," she admitted, their previous argument a stalemate. "It was a scratchy history at best, with pages burnt out halfway through, as you probably discovered."

Abby slumped over a little more, her etchings in the gravel becoming more elaborate. She always did like to doodle when she was thinking of what to say.

"The rest were spells. Spells for _something_. Honestly, I have no idea what the hell they meant, Dean," she revealed, looking him straight in the eye. "That's the truth. I have no idea what they were for, but all I know is my mom was either a hunter or a priestess or..._something_. I have no idea and I have no clue what is in that book. Can I read it? Yes. Do I get it? No. I don't understand the point of the journal at all."

Dean leaned farther against the car, finding himself observing the crisp white flickering stars against the dark sky. Why the hell didn't he just ask before? Why did he think it was best to investigate?

" 'Cause that's who you are, Dean. Deep down, even though you hate to admit it, you _are_ a hunter. Your gut tells you to follow your instincts and you can tell yourself not to, but you can't help it. It's saved you and Sammy on numerous occasions; why wouldn't you trust it? I guess it might have just gone overboard with everything that has been going on lately," she smiled. "You can relax, I'm fine. You don't need to protect me. I've been doing well for a few hundred years."

"Oh sure," he smirked, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You say that, but I can count at least oh...five times I've saved your ass?"

She rested against him, nuzzling him in the neck.

"I'm sorry I made you upset," she apologized.

"Nah, I wasn't that upset. I was worried, is all. I like you in one piece, ya know," he kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

She glanced down at her watch; 9:40pm, the date mockingly displaying June 6th to the left.

"Hey, I think we should get going," she lamented. "I'm getting a headache."

"You, ok," he said, holding her head between strong hands.

"I'll be fine. Just get Cas and Gwen. I'll wait here."

He smirked and ran back inside the bar.

The cellphone in Abby's pocket vibrated. She casually walked around to the passenger side of the car, trying to discreetly pull the phone out of the pocket of her dark denim jeans. There were only numbers and symbols: a GPS signal location with the time 11pm. Yeah, she didn't need the time reminder; she was well aware.

She shoved the cellphone back in her pocket without bringing attention to herself. Apparently since Hannah would not be able to come and collect her that night, being deceased and all, they expected her to get to that location on her own.

Abby sat in the car, watching out for Dean and the happy couple to come out. Moments later, they exited together, Dean and Cas helping a very drunk Gwen out and got her safely to the vehicle.

"Come on, Gwen," Cas chuckled, lifting her into the backseat as she giggled.

"Crazy kids," Dean muttered, getting into the drivers seat and heading back to the cabins.

The ride back was quick and quiet, with Dean concentrating on driving and Cas cradling a very woozy Gwen in his arms. Guess there was no getting it on for them that evening.

After about a fifteen minute drive, they pulled into the driveway. 10:00 pm.

"See you guys in the morning. Come one, Gwenie," Cas grunted as he lifted Gwen in his arms and carried her down the hill to the larger cabin.

Abby decided that, before she'd leave, she'd say goodbye to her kids-at least for a while. First, she had to say her goodbye to Dean.

She took his hand and walked with him up to their cabin, the idea of it being their own little piece of heaven. It was a memory for him to keep of her and she hoped that he didn't take it the wrong way. Abby was going to find a way out of her deal, but until then, he would need something to keep her close. This little haven was it.

They made their way up the short hill to the door, she entering first and Dean following behind.

"Last night here," he smiled adorably.

He didn't know how right on the nose he was.

"Yeah, it is," she said, her back pressed against the wall of the living room.

He continued to smile and she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't have time to screw around.

She zoomed across the room and pushed him onto the rug over the wooden floor. He laughed, commenting on why she was so eager.

"I love you," she kissed his neck, "do I need any other reason?"

"Nope," he sat up, "seems like a good reason to me."

Dean lifted her off the floor, straddling her in his lap. She yanked off his shirt as he fumbled to remove hers. Fumbling wasn't the right word, he was failing. Abby sighed and pushed him back down, carefully pulling up her shirt. Last thing she wanted before she left was one pissed off daughter, angry about her article of clothing getting ripped during a torrid love-fest by her parents.

Finally down to her bra, Dean was in very familiar territory.

Placing fierce kisses up her shoulder to her collarbone, he massaged her back, quickly removing her fabric shackles. He tossed it nonchalantly to the side of the room, starting the inevitable pile of clothes that was soon to be finished.

"Dean," she moaned as his hands worked her breasts, kneading and feeling the soft flesh.

"Yes," he smiled, reveling in his ability to make her say his name with lust. "It's me. What, were you thinking it was someone else?"

She growled at his joking, pressing him to the ground at vampire speed and ripping off his pants, leaving his completely nude.

Straddling his naked body, her own still wearing her heels and jeans, she smiled down above him, her hands resting on his chest.

"Nope, it's you," she answered, playfully biting her lower lip.

He smirked and pushed her down, feverishly undoing her pants, his hands pushing her clothing down while his lips pursued her own. His mouth met hers, tangling together, his tongue caressing her own. She met his loving assault with equal passion.

His hands pushed down her pants, guiding the fabric down her thighs and passed her calves. He muttered against her lips about stupid shoes before tossing them off her feet, finally getting her free of her denim clutches.

"Nice work, Winchester," she laughed. "You've hunted the evil denim monster and won. I think it's time to celebrate."

Dean smiled _her_ smile and she memorized it. The way his lip curled up just a tad, the earnest reflection of true happiness, the mischievous gleam in those green irises. She would take every bit of it with her and keep it forever.

He sat up, lifting her up onto his lap, positioning her.

She hovered over him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"I love you, Dean. I always will."

He kissed her lips and pushed into her, both of the them moaning with ecstasy. It was that first moment, that moment of ultimate singularity of being, that really got to her.

She gasped in pleasure as they moved together, his face buried in her neck, sucking and kissing the skin at the nape. Her hands moved up his back up into his hair, messing with his brown locks, playfully tugging with gentleness.

For the first time that evening, she wasn't keeping track of time as they ground against each other, their hands roaming over each other's bodies.

They writhed in sweaty ecstasy, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and shoulders. She licked off some perspiration running down Dean's neck, her move met by a happy whimper.

No words were spoken, the only sounds pleasurable moans and skin meeting skin.

She smiled as her body, tight on a wire, finally gave way, the wonderful pulsations throbbing throughout her body.

Her head titled back, as her voice matched the feelings in her body as Dean released inside her, his own grunts matching her own.

Together, they slowed but did not retract from one another. Dean slumped backwards, pulling her down on top of him, his arms wrapped snuggly around her body.

She beamed against his chest, her head resting comfortably on his damp skin.

Abby's eyes fluttered shut, her head engulfed in the rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart. In. Out. In. Out. Fast at first then slowing down back to a normal rate.

In. Out. In. Out.

Dean kissed the top of her head, one hand placed on the chilled small of her back, the other playing with the tangles in her hair.

In. Out. In. Out.

She was in happiness, in awe of the man holding her in his arms. The mere fact that they were together in that moment, after every obstacle they had been through, was in it's own right a miracle. Perhaps it was only meant to last that long.

She pondered that thought as her eyes drifted shut.

* * *

Dean watched as she slept on him, his arm bent to cradle his head, the other running up and down his wife's spine. After that sexy romp, she was tuckered out.

He laid back, reveling in the quiet calm of it all. It was moments like that he missed when he was a kid. There was never a time to just 'turn off;' he always had to be on his game to protect his family.

For some unknown reason, in that moment, he felt he could let his guard down.

A sound to his side gathered his attention.

"Sonofabitch," he whispered as he tried to reach his jeans just off to the side.

The sound continued.

Finally, he grabbed the hem of his discarded pants. He pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket.

Nope, that wasn't it.

The noise kept on going. Not wanting anything to wake up Abby, he carefully got up replacing himself with a pillow and blanket. She moved slightly during the intrusion, but almost instantly fell back into deep slumber.

"That's my girl," he smiled, moving a piece of hair from her face. "Damn that stupid noise."

He searched the pile of strewn clothing, the ones they had chucked far to the other side of the room.

Awesome, he found it. It was the vibration of her cellphone.

He took it and gave it a curious looksy. She set her alarm for 10:45pm? Why?

She had mentioned about maybe leaving the bar at a certain time; maybe that was set as a reminder?

Either way, he shut it off. If there was any night to let her sleep, it was that.

He happily laid back down beside her, letting sleep take him as well.

* * *

It was dark and cold. Very cold.

"You still awake, Winchester?"

"I think so," he muttered. "Can't sleep."

"Me neither," Sonora said, her hand on his own. "I'm too cold."

"How's the wound?"

She mentioned that it was healing, but from the tone in her voice, it wouldn't' heal well without the necessary sustenance.

He had no clue where they were; he hadn't been very conscious when they had arrived. Wherever they were currently being held was pitch black, there was not one inch of light coming from any direction. There was not even one that would indicate the location of a door.

The floor was bare and damp, from what he wasn't sure. For all he knew, it could have been soaked in his own blood.

It was cold. No, cold was too generous. It was fucking freezing.

He could feel his body tremor, doing its best to keep warm. From the sounds of Sonora's teeth chattering, she was having the same issue. But, that cold...in June? No, it couldn't have been the weather. Whatever was causing their sudden loss of heat had to be from their injuries. Were-were they dying? Was that what Becky felt like, as he was mistakingly taking her very life away?

He pushed the thought aside. He couldn't let himself go that dark, no, not when there was someone in the same predicament counting on him and vice versa.

"Come here," he said.

"Where's here," she asked.

"Feel my aura," he said, intentionally pushing out his energy towards her, something for her psychic abilities to pull on to.

Her palms slapped against the wet floor as she slid towards him. Slowly, she found him. Sonora's hand sought his in the darkness.

"Now what," she asked, clutching his hand.

"Lay beside me. It will keep us warm," he said, surprised at the pause in his own suggestion. After all, it was strictly for heat. Nothing more.

As she found his body and nestled beside him, her breathing sure against his neck, his good arm wrapped around her, pressing her body to his own as much as he could in his weak state. In actuality, it was more than that and he damn well knew better. He cared about Sonora. She was a true friend to him, one of the few he had left...and they were going to die in that room. The room would most likely, very shortly, become their tomb.

His family would mourn him, he'd have people at his funeral-but who would be at hers?

They laid there for some time but he couldn't be sure how long. They were encased in deafening silence.

"Who would have thought it would be 185 years and it would be all over, right," she said with an air of sarcasm. "167 of it living alone."

He didn't press her harder, her body shaking next to him a mixture of chill and tears. Dylan's hand lightly stroked her arm, non-verbally trying to comfort her.

"My mom and dad raised us in the Georgia colony. I've-I've never told anyone this but now seems as good of a time as any, right?"

Dylan protested, stopping her mid-thought, explaining that she didn't have to go any further, but she insisted.

"No one knows me, Dyl. No one. I came to the nest seeking sanctuary and a job, not explaining myself to anyone. My mother was Native American and my father was white. We lived with my five siblings in a small house on the outskirts of Macon. It was simple but full of life. There was a world of wonder out there for a kid, so many places to explore and to have fun. It was really amazing," she paused, groaning from the pain in her leg. "One day, we came back from playing, me and my younger sister, and-and the house was on fire. There was blood everywhere. Father was dead on the front porch, my other siblings dead across the yard, their bodies being piled up on a makeshift funeral pyre. My mother was still bleeding on the front porch, a man standing over her. She looked at us and then he turned and his eyes...they were dark, his mouth was covered in blood. I couldn't stand to look."

She paused and he gave her time.

"My mother yelled for us to run and god knows we tried, but before we could get more than a few feet, he caught us. He grabbed both of us, biting my sister first before he bit into me. I can remember the initial pain, then nothing. I remember him putting me on the ground and I stared into my sister's eyes. Hers were glazed over. My vision started to blur and-and the world got foggy. Everything sounded underwater. The colors in the world didn't match what it remembered. I was dying."

He ventured to guess she was mentioning those aspects because, currently she had to be going through the same thing. Dylan could relate. His mind was scrambled, he found it hard to concentrate on anything but the throbbing of his shoulder.

"Whoever it was left us there to die. He just left us to rot. I remember laying there, hoping it would just be over soon. I was in pain, the punctures in my neck seeping into the damp grass below. I remember the pain from my dress being too tight; I couldn't breathe. Then, there was rustling in the bushes. A band of Okmulgee-Creek Indians appeared from out of nowhere. They scouted the scene. At that point I knew we were dead.-like, deader than dead. But, instead, they bent down and tied up our wounds, smiling upon us. Then, he bit into his wrist and fed me his blood. They turned us; me, my sister and my mother."

He asked what happened to her after that. She explained that that particular band of the tribe were vampires, but they just wanted to live in peace. They had been hunting down the vampire that killed her family and, in guilt, they felt they needed to rectify the situation by having the survivors continue living.

"We stayed with them. We fit right in; my mother was Creek. So, we blended well, learning the language for the skeptical ones to accept us. All and all, life was good. That was...until they cracked down on the Indian Relocation Act. The government uprooted us and forced us to walk hundreds, no thousands, of miles. Even though we originally weren't part of them, we felt like we were. We walked with our tribe. Little did we know, part of it was a test. A special band of soldiers kept track of those that seemed to walk faster, walk farther and were surviving better on little amounts of food. They kept breaking down the groups. People would die and you'd have to leave them. Others were taken off down different roads. Finally there were only around 20 of us left; the 20 that happened to be vampires. It was a roundup. The soldiers just also happened to be hunters. It was a hunter named Ezra Campbell who ordered the slaughter. Maybe you've heard of him-he was your great-great-great-great grandfather."

Dylan froze. He knew of his family history, but didn't realize that the hunters in his family were that savage. How could they just round up those people and not know who was a vampire or not? Was figuring out who had a longer endurance a significant test to determine who was supernatural or not?

He dared to ask: were there any humans caught up in the massacre?

She stayed silent. Within her stillness was the answer. He felt her sadness, her loss at the death of people she had grown fond of-and the death of her family.

"They didn't ask. They just started shooting, stabbing, slashing with their military swords. They butchered them all. My first instinct was to run. Fight or flight, right? I ran as fast as I could, the world a blur around me. I-I somehow got away. I have no idea why they didn't get me. I crouched down in some brush for hours. By the time I got back to see what happened, all that was left was smoldering ashes. My mother's and sister's jewelry were among the embers. They were dead and I was alone," she stopped, and quivered close to tears. "I didn't use to be so cold and collected, Dylan. There was on soldier that I talked to while we were walking, a Daniel Winchester, Ezra's son. Before the tragedy, we got close-too close for my mom's comfort. In secret, I opened up to him; I told him things-and it ended up biting me right in the ass. I got my tribe killed." He was going to tell her it's not her fault, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. After all, after Becky passed away, he had gotten fucking sick of people tell him the same mantra. The only person that could change one's perspective on that aspect was the individual living with the guilt.

Dylan ran has hand over her arm, caressing it. She nuzzled her face into his neck, keeping it there. They stayed that way for some time, her soft breathe caressing his neck between shivers.

It was somber, but at least if they were going to die, it would be together.

_Help! Help! Help!_

He gasped in pain, the shouts in his head and the feeling in his gut ringing with alarm bells.

"Dylan, what's wrong," Sonora shook beside him.

There was only one person's mind that could give him such a reaction.

"Something's wrong with my sister."

* * *

April laid on her bed, her eyes studying the ceiling, contemplating what it would like to be back home after everything that had happened. She wouldn't be graduating with her class. After all the absences she had in the past year, she would have to go to summer school to finish it up. Good times.

What was she going to do about Jesse? She cared for him, but-she wasn't ready yet. There was still a part of her grieving. Everyday, it got a little easier, so at least it was going in the right direction. If she was lucky, perhaps Jesse would wait for her. After all, they both had eternity.

She rolled over, trying to break her insomnia.

What time was it anyway?

11:15 pm. She'd been trying to sleep for a good hour. Maybe she should get up and do something. Perhaps going for a run would tire her out.

In mid-thought, a clammy hand was placed over her mouth.

'_Don't move or we will fucking kill your brother,'_ the voice said in her head_._

April turned and saw her brother Jamie, peacefully sleeping in his bed across the loft. She couldn't do anything to hurt him.

She nodded in response to the culprit, replying that she would behave.

The hands grabbing her were stronger, stronger than any she had dealt with before. They clearly belonged to something supernatural.

She was slung over a shoulder as the kidnapper easily jumped out the second floor window of the cabin onto the ground with no injury. There was a sharp sting in her neck. April tried to keep her eyes open to gain perspective on where she was going; how many turns? How many minutes to get to landmarks? It was stuff her parents tried to prepare her for in that particular situation. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't do it.

The moonlight shining off of the grass and her kidnappers shoes were the last thing she saw before she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Abby shifted, feeling Dean's arms wrapped around her. She peered down to find that he had covered them both in a blanket and brought them pillows. He'd also lit a fire in the fireplace. It was pretty cold for a June night. Must be a Wisconsin thing.

She stretched her hands out in front of her, finding them cramped from being in the same position too for long.

Her phone vibrated. Good. She woke up before the alarm. She had set it for 15 minutes before, giving her a few minutes to kiss her children goodbye as they slept and enough time to make her way to the coordinates dictated by the text message.

She squeezed Dean's hand. He rolled over, facing the fire and away from her. He was too adorable for words. She gave his butt a love-tap before getting her phone.

Abby picked her jeans off the floor and they were not where she tossed them-or at least not where she thought she tossed them. It was hard to tell in the reckless abandon of lovemaking.

She searched the pocket. No phone? Why was her phone out of her pants?

Following the sound of the vibrations, she found it on the side table next to the couch. How the hell did it get all the way over there?

A chill ran through her. Something wasn't right. She knew with everything in her being that she didn't put it there.

She picked it up. 1 new text message sent at 11:15 pm. 11:15 pm?

'_You're late. We have your daughter.' _

Her heart sank.

"No," she murmured, her hand covering her mouth in horror.

How could she? How could she have slept through that; _she would have heard it._

"No. NO. NO," she said louder, her body shaking with sadness and rage.

'_I have to go. I have to go now!'_

No time for goodbyes anymore. Her only thought was she had to do everything to procure the safe return of her daughter.

"Hey you ok," Dean groaned, stretching.

She didn't reply. Abby gathered her clothes at vampire speed, putting them on as fast as she could. Grabbing her phone, she made her way to the door.

"Hey, hello," Dean got her attention, rising up from the floor.

She didn't answer. Abby had to leave right then or else-

"Abby," he stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Where are you going?"

"I have somewhere to go. Please get out of my way," she asked.

"Not until you tell me where you are going," he said, blocking her exit.

"Why did you turn off my alarm," she stoically questioned.

"I just thought you should get some sleep," Dean innocently answered. "You look exhausted. Maybe you should just cancel your plans tonight and get some-"

"I can't cancel my plans, Dean. These plans cannot be pushed aside. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for?"

She gasped in tears, pulling him to her in a kiss. All the passion and sadness she felt came out against his lips.

"I love you," she whispered.

She turned around at vampire speed and jumped out the closed window, the shards of glass nicking her strong flesh.

In the distance, she could hear Dean calling for her. Abby didn't dare turn around or look back. She just ran, focusing on the GPS device on her phone. Come hell or high water, she had to get there.

* * *

Dean struggled to put his bottoms on as he ran down the hill towards the larger cabin, his amulet bouncing against his bare chest as he made his way.

Fuck. Shit. Damn it.

He swore in his head as he jumped over rocks and twigs, not bothering in his frantic state to look for the path.

"Sammy," he yelled as he made his way through the door.

He ran into his brother's and sister-in-law's bedroom, not bothering to knock.

"Sam, get up. We need to roll."

"Dean, what's going on," he said, covering a semi-nude Ruby, who laid in bed rolling her eyes at the intrusion.

"Dean! Get the fuck out," she yelled.

"Sorry," Dean said, standing in the hall, pacing, running his hand through his hair.

Sam appeared in the hall in a t-shirt and boxers.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

"She's gone, Sammy. Abby left."

"Left," his brother looked at him sideways. "Care to elaborate?"

"Um...left as in jumped out the window and took off left," Dean snapped. "We need to go after her."

"Left," Bobby said groggily from the couch, "What's goin' on boys?"

Dean explained it to Bobby, finding Cas and Gwen joining the conversation. Gwen made the point that Jamie was sleeping up in the loft; they needed to keep their voices down. They pondered in silence, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

He had to admit, his heart was pounding. It just wasn't like his wife to do what she did.

Gwen was already in planning mode. She said that Dean, Sam, Cas and herself should try to track her down. She believed that her being a vampire would be able to track her friend's scent.

"We need one vamp here, just in case there is something after Abby. April can stay here with Bobby. You can still handle a gun, can't you," she addressed Bobby.

"I may be old, but I ain't an idjit," he smiled. "I got this covered."

Gwen quietly made her way up to the loft, not wanting to wake Jamie, but she had to get April up and about.

Dean watched as the vampire zipped up the stairs, leaving the rest of them in the living room waiting.

It was quiet before he heard the gasp.

That couldn't be good.

Gwen darted back down the stairs, her face full of fear.

"She's gone."

Dean grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"What do you mean _gone_?"

"She's-she's not in bed. The window's wide open, the screen knocked out. She's gone," she hyperventilated.

"Maybe she snuck out," Sam surmised.

Gwen shook her head.

"No. No. There was something else...footprints. She didn't leave on her own accord."

Dean's color sunk from his face as he realized his greatest fear: his wife was gone and some bastard had kidnapped his daughter.

He headed out the door instantly, his brother and friends calling after him.

* * *

She looked down at her phone. Yep. She was at her destination.

It was nothing special, just some random spot in the middle of the woods.

"Ok, I'm here," she yelled, out of breathe from her run and her emotions. "I'm here!"

Nothing. Even though she was in the center of a forest, there wasn't a living sound. Not a crack of a twig. Not a rustle in the bushes. No birds. No scurrying. Nada.

It was eerie.

"COME ON! YOU HAVE ME! GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER," she screamed.

She stood in her spot, turning around the permitter, searching for any sign of life.

"You're late, little girl," a female voice replied.

Abby quickly turned towards the voice, unable to find its source.

"I know. It was an accident," she explained.

"Well-accidents do happen," the voice happily exclaimed.

Abby stood, her hands trembling, doing her best not to show fear.

"Please-please give me back my daughter."

A pause.

"No. I think not-not yet anyway. You'll get her back, when we get what we want," the female stated in the shadows.

What did she mean; _they had Abb_y. She was surrendering herself; game over.

"Perhaps you are giving yourself up, Abigail, but you are only a key to open a door. We're not done yet."

Had-had she just re-

"Read your mind? Of course. You might say it's...genetic."

A whizzing sound cut through the air and a pinch hit her directly in the spine.

Abby gasped and fell to the ground, her head turned to the side, her vision going in and out. Just before she fell unconscious, she say a figure step out of the shadows.

No, she had to be hallucinating, but there she was.

A dark, elaborate cloak flowed behind her in the darkness, the hood partially shielding her face from view. Her delicately pale hands pushed back her hood, as she signaled for her two male companions to pick Abby off the ground. Her dark eyes met hers, her smile forever the same.

"Mom?"


	38. Next

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. I'M REALLY WORKING HARD TO FINISH THIS STORY RIGHT. I APPRECIATE ALL THE COMMENTS. ENJOY!_**

"Dean, do you have any idea where she ran to," Sam huffed as he ran next to his brother, gun in hand.

"Well, she ran into the woods going East, from the looks of her footprints," his brother surmised, holding onto his shotgun. He pointed his gun at the sloppy print she left in the mud. Thank god for that rainy night before. The muddy impression was definitely from a woman's boot. Could it have been from someone else? Perhaps, but at that point, they were willing to take any clue they might have.

"Other than that," Dean continued, "I was half asleep and kinda shocked that she just bolted out like that. Took me a minute to figure out what in fuck's sake was going on. Though I was dreaming for a moment. It's not everyday your wife decides to jump through glass two stories up, ya know?"

Gwen blurred ahead of them, an amorphous streak until her pursuit grounded to a halt. She stood on top of a large, charred tree stump, an apparent victim of a lightning strike. She searched the area around her, sniffing the air for any aroma that could lead her in the right course. In the moonlight, she looked like a vampire should; pale, lithe and cunning.

"That way," she pointed towards the right direction-he hoped.

The Winchesters started out after her, following as close behind as possible. It wasn't easy keeping up with something with that much speed and power, but he had to do his best. God only knew what could be up with Abby. Was she in trouble? Did she run off on her own accord; had she finally gotten sick of her life with his brother?

Sam was worried about his brother's mental state. The man had to be on the verge of snapping and he'd rarely seen Dean truly crack. It was atypical. Sure, his brother could be a cocky hothead during hunts, but he managed to keep his cool whenever others were in danger. Tossing Abby and April into some possible fray at the same time was something nobody thought could happen; it was an intense situation for all.

Sam made sure to jog ahead and keep his stride in line with Dean. Being irrational could be dangerous for them all. He had to be stable for his older brother.

* * *

Her eyes were heavy as she opened them for the first time. Slowly, she separated her lids, finding her gaze following the lines of the gauzy fabric grazing the top of a canopy bed, the wooden beams of a cathedral cabin ceiling high above.

How did she get there? Where was _there?_

She looked from side to side, her head cushioned by a mountain of expensive pillows.

Carefully, she set herself upright and took a closer look at her surroundings. She found herself in an elegantly decorated bedroom, full of antique furniture and the finest linens one could even hope to dream of. In fact, she was pretty sure the elaborate covers draping her body were turn of the eighteenth century linens. They were pristine; not one single thread out of place on the down-filled piece of art. Even with all of her amassed wealth, she would not have been able to afford it.

_Where the hell was she?_

Abby's mind cleared the fog and then she remembered: she'd been late. Damn it, how could she have done that and let them take her...daughter. _April_.

She jumped out of bed as fast as she could, searching for an exit. No windows. The only way in-or-out of the room that she could find were the intricately carved, double wooden doors. Before she could even get to her escape, they opened. Two large male vampires, whose aura seemed very old, stood in front of her. They were probably the same ones that had helped capture her in the clearing.

One of them handed her a robe. Abby glanced down at herself to find she had been put into an elegant satin cream nightgown while she was unconscious.

At first she refused the shift, telling the brute 'no thanks.'

"I _insist_, my Lady," he said in a way that he didn't quite insist; it was an order.

She snatched the robe out from his grasp, gracefully wrapping herself in its warmth. They gestured for her to continue down the hall, the two escorts following close behind.

Abby passed many doors, all elaborately carved as her own, as she walked. Whatever this place was wasn't just a house; it was more like a hotel. From the art deco style throughout, delicately carved on the heavy wooden doors and beams, she knew the building had to be at least ninety-five years old. Wherever they were, it was not showing it's age. It must have taken an overabundance of funds to restore it.

She reached a landing with some stairs going up, some going down and paused. The bigger kidnapper pointed for her to ascend. She reluctantly obliged.

At the top landing, two doors opened for her at her approach.

The doors revealed a huge, cavernous space, the ceiling rising high above the floor, held up by heavy wooden beams. The center of the ceiling was an elaborate stained glass roof, the rain outside tinging against the panes. The inlay of the floor told her that the room had once been used as a ballroom or first-class gathering space, still in the art deco style she had seen around more prevalently many years before.

Instead of it's original intention, the room had been changed into a large seating area, many comfy looking chairs and chaises in a circle in front of a massive fireplace, which was currently blazing.

Fresh roses, all in white, filled crystal vases atop several side tables next to some of the chairs.

"Sit," the man said from behind her.

She walked, her feet lightly hitting the inlaid wooden floor, not a scuff felt beneath her toes. Abby took her time across the floor, keeping an eye out for escape routes. There were a few windows throughout the room, but none with a visible latch that could easily be opened. In front and behind her were also several doors, but she could sense people, guards perhaps, on the other side of each. Once again, there was no way to get out...unless she managed to improvise. Even that was probably just wishful thinking. In her current woozy state, with all those vampire guards, she was guaranteed toast.

Abby took a seat on a white chair, keeping her feet planted on the ground just in case she had to make a break for it.

She couldn't tell how long she stayed there; maybe a few minutes to an hour. There was no way to be completely sure. Abby had spent most of her time in deep contemplation, her eyes mingling with the flames dancing in the fire.

"Would you care for a refreshment," a man suddenly said at her side.

It snapped her to attention.

"No-no, I'm fine," she answered.

"Oh, come now," a female voice echoed through the room. "Surely you must still be healing from your unfortunate bought with DMB in the woods. Please, drink."

"I'm not-"

"Drink."

A hand pushed a drink in front of her.

She took it, holding it but not partaking.

"Drink," the voice sounded again, this time with slight sinister intent lingering in the timbre.

Everything inside Abby told her not to protest. After all, she was surrounded and wounded. She'd find a way out, but that moment was currently not the time. She drank.

It was sweet, tangy, potent; it was human. She stopped.

"Now is not the time to be a prude, Abigail. You need you strength."

She finally glanced up to the person addressing her. The same eyes that stared at her in the woods gazed back. This time, she wasn't under such distress and could clearly see the differences between the woman in front of her and her own mother. Their eyes were the same shape, seemingly very exotic, and both had a similar, angular bone structure. Her hair was just as black with blue highlights shimmering in the light. This woman was not her mother but most definitely similar.

The woman sat down in the chaise across from her.

In an instant, the other chairs around her were also filled. It was before _she_ could even blink, faster than any vampire she had ever met before.

All of the seats were taken by woman, all of varying features and all of them absolutely gorgeous.

To her hostess's right was another beautiful woman, same stature and bone structure. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, almost black but had remnants of red shimmering throughout the strands. Her eyes were not the obsidian of the others or Abby's; they were a deep steely grey.

On that woman's right side was another of ethereal beauty, sitting slightly taller in her seat. Other than that, her hair and eyes were the same as the prior. The only difference was her face had broader angles than the other pale vampires near her.

To her hostess's left was a vampire of a smaller stature. She almost looked unhealthy, which was extremely odd for an incorporeal being. She was lanky and lean, her facial contours sharp and crisp. Her eyes were reminiscent of the other gray shades, but hers were paler with a tinge of blue, taking on an appearance of a corpse.

The two farthest from the host's spot, but closer to Abby's own, were two women who stood out; they were blonde. Although being fair haired did seem to be the only thing the two girls did have in common. One had an almost golden hue, her eyes gray. The other's hair was ashen and her eyes a dark black.

There was one point that Abby came to a conclusion; these woman had more than one feature in common for it just to be a matter of sheer coincidence.

The hostess in the center took a sip of her own decanter filled with blood, before smiling.

"Welcome. I'm glad to see that you are unharmed," she purred.

"No thanks to you," Abby scoffed. "Where is my daughter?"

"Oh, resting," the woman said. "You will see her-in good time, my dear."

"Cut the bullshit. Why am I here?"

"Ooo, right to the chase, eh," the female vampire chuckled. "Fine, I'll get to that. How about we start this chat by skipping the pleasantries and going right to a good story? You like stories, right? Of course you do. We _all_ do."

The group of woman got comfortable around her while Abby felt a cold chill. There was no way that she was going to let herself feel safe around the mysterious women.

"The story begins many, many years ago with two little girls-two _beautiful_ sisters. These two sisters were lucky enough to be born into a fantastic legacy. There was a catch though, only the first girl, who had the luck to be born one minute before the other, had the legacy bestowed upon her. One mere singular minute is what determined their futures. At first, the girl loved her role, being groomed into her destiny. Her 'little' sister did her bidding as she should, catering to her sibling and being her best friend; her confidant. The twin girls were inseparable," she said, taking a momentary pause. The woman glanced down, a small amount of remorse and sadness, before continuing on with her tale. "Not long after the joyous birth of the two girls, their family grew and welcome more children-5 little, equally gorgeous daughters followed after the twins. The elder daughters were charged with helping with the care of the younger. Although they were helping their sisters grow into well-intentioned adults, the twins were also only just children themselves. Together, they played, worshipped together, learned The Craft side-by-side, taught to them by their mother. Their bond _unbreakable_. So it was until the eldest daughter turned 19. She was groomed and ready to take her place in her family legacy. The family line was royal you know, and the first born daughter of their line sacred; she being the only one in the world that was a vessel strong enough to take her rite. Instead, the girl squandered her gift after falling in love with a young man. You see, to maintain the lineage, the family stayed in marriage amongst cousins. It was the times back then. It was to keep the bloodline pure and the sacred rite within the family. She decided differently. The sister informed her twin that she was viewing her role in a new light and didn't like that she was being forced into something she felt, in actuality, knew very little about; she felt that she did not know the whole truth. The eldest was not going to sign up for a role she didn't quite understand. Her sister was disgusted that she would choose that boy over her own family. And then, one night without a word-she left."

"That's not exactly how it went," one of the blonde women chirped in, her voice as sultry as velvet.

"Oh, _no_," the storyteller interjected. "How old were you when she parted? Hmm?"

"Eight," the blonde admitted with a pause.

"That's right, you were _eight _when she abandoned us. You have no idea how it-"

"She left all of us, _sister_, not just you."

_Sister?_

Abby's skin crawled as the vampire at the center gazed at her deep in eyes. Yes, those eyes were very familiar and she did feel that same glimmer in that woman's eyes as her mothers.

"We were all sisters, Abigail. She was ours; my twin. May I introduce you to your family."

She gestured to her right, to the brunette with the steely gray eyes: Sarah. Her hand then gracefully moved to the adjacent brunette, the one with the broader but equally gorgeous face; Alice. Next it was to the brunette with the gaunt physique; Beatrix. Over to the blondes, the one with golden hair was named Marion. Last, but not least, the one who had questioned her apparent sister during the story was revealed to be Eleanor.

Sisters. Her mother's family, and there in front of her, her mother's twin. Flesh and blood. Her family.

It was a moment that she fantasized about as a young child. There was nothing she wanted more than to meet where her parent's came from, where her past began. Her life.

There it all was set in front of her. Six sisters out of seven remained, at least five of whom seemed to have some qualm against her mother taking off and marrying her father. Eleanor was the only one who had seemed discomforted by the hosts' tone of voice throughout the story.

"And I am, Elisabeth," the raven haired beauty explained, her British roots still apparent in her voice. "Your mother, our Anne, was my twin. My word, you resemble her so."

The vampire stood up at an ethereal pace and flowed across the room, her own white silk robe cascading across the floor.

She stood in front of Abby and lifted her niece's chin with her slender fingers.

"You have her eyes," she smiled, a mixture of longing and slight contempt in her gaze. "It was a pity what happened to her. She had such promise."

Abby pulled her face from Elisabeth's fingers, causing her aunt to grin.

"And I see you equal her tenacity. That's good. We can use that."

A question came into her mind and was vocalized before she could stop herself.

"When-when you found out what happened to my mother-why didn't you come for us," Abby asked, her eyes pleading with all of her aunt's for answers. All but Eleanor looked to Elisabeth for response. Eleanor just looked off to the side at nothing, her eyes foggy with sadness, perhaps even regret.

"We did try to come get you," Elisabeth smirked as she made her way back to her seat across the way. "In fact, that was our job. We were there to get _you_-we were the ones who gave your mother those letters."

Her stomach dropped.

"The cloaked woman," she caught herself saying aloud once more, finding no censor between her head and her mouth.

"There were many cloaked women, Abby," Elisabeth gestured around the room, pointing towards all the women present. "It was a part that was played, but, yes, I played the role of one at some point."

She had reached her boiling point and it was making her canines itch. Tremors of rage ran through her body.

"You..._bitch,_" she stammered as she blurred towards Elisabeth.

None of the other vampires moved. Apparently, there was no need.

Suddenly, her body was unable to move. Her muscles twitched in horrific spasms, her body feeling as if she had been tazed. That was precisely what had happened to her. She fell to the floor, twitching and unable to scream.

"Thank you," Elisabeth said to the male vampires who had entered the room at the sound of a struggle. "Please escort my dear niece to her room. I will discuss the rest of our history with her once she has calmed down to a sane temperament."

Her body was lifted off of the floor and carried down the hall. Her head was leaned back to see her family, all were looking at her...except for Eleanor.

* * *

Dean watched as Gwen stopped ahead of them, dead in her tracks.

"They stopped going on foot here," she huffed. Dean thought about her words; they. Abby wasn't alone when she took off.

That left only one option in his mind. Dean had to believe that she was taken, he couldn't believe that she left on her own accord. So, to keep going, he braced himself for that fact. If she was taken, she didn't go on her own-and god only knew she probably didn't go quietly.

He, Sam & Cas finally made it to her side, all three out of breathe compared to the able-bodied vampire.

"Where'd she go," Cas asked.

"By truck," Dean pointed to the ground with his sawed off. "Probably a jeep. These woods are pretty dense. I doubt anything could through here but an ATV."

Sam asked if Gwen would be able to keep the scent. She nodded yes, besides, she'd be able to remember the location verbatim.

"Good," he said. "I'll run back for my SUV with Gwen. You two stay here and we'll pick you up."

"We're wasting time-," Dean started to complain before Sam cut him off.

"Look, if they drove fifty miles then we'd have to walk it. What would you rather do? We're wasting more time sitting here and debating it. Please," Sam said. "Just stay here and we'll be back in an hour. All right?"

Dean stayed quiet and nodded. Like it or not, his brother was right. At least...he was right while he was still in plain sight. As soon as Sam was out of sight, Dean motioned for Cas to start walking.

"But, Dean...your brother-"

"They'll catch up to us," Dean huffed as he hustled.

Cas tried to stop him, telling him it was foolish to walk off without a guide. They were, after all, in the woods without a map; they would need Gwen to make a safe journey.

Dean stopped, turning to stand toe-to-toe with Cas.

"I am _not_ going to just freakin' _stand_ there while my _wife_ and _daughter_ are out there somewhere. Stay here if you want, I'm going to keep movin'."

Dean jogged on, hearing Cas following close behind.

* * *

Abby pulled her knees up to her chest in the corner of the room. She sat upon the wooden floor, unable to take part in the comforts of the extravagant bed. It just seemed too sacrilegious after what she just learned.

Her head was spinning from the mixture of dead man's blood, being tazed and of shock. Her mother's family, _her_ family, were who murdered her parent's in cold blood. Not only that, they had tried to get rid of her and her brother as well. The people who she thought had the answers, everything that her mother was keeping from her certainly did; it was a horror that she did not expect.

She regretted ever feeling that her mother had no right to keep such things from her. There was now an obvious reason.

A knock at the door shook her attention.

The doors open to reveal Elisabeth in her regal splendor. She strode in, the guards placed outside Abby's room, sealing the door behind her.

"Isn't this place just splendid," Elisabeth gushed as she took in the room.

She walked over to the fireplace, her gown grazing the floor in her wake. She stoked it, making the embers sizzle and crisp.

"This place was a huge find for us. Many don't know of it, and those who do, think it haunted and dare not venture inwards. This was a hotel in the 1920s and was used as a mob hideout. You remember those days, don't you?"

Abby didn't answer.

"The booze overflowed, murder was almost casual; it was truly a good age for the vampire. Wouldn't you agree?"

Her aunt glanced over her shoulder at Abby, waiting for a response.

"Cat got your tongue," Elisabeth smirked. She shrugged, putting down the fire poker and blurring over to take a seat on the soft bed. "I suppose this sort of shock would invoke such a reaction."

'_You murdered my family.'_

Elisabeth looked up, her eyes slightly in pain.

"It wasn't as if I _wanted_ to kill your mother. She was my sister, after all," she admitted. "It was a matter of duty. I was protecting my family. Tell me, Abigail, how would you have felt if you had to kill your brother?"

"I wouldn't have done it," Abby snarled in retort.

"Really? Not even if you knew he was killing innocent people?"

"No," Abby admitted. "I'd be a hypocrite, would I not, if I were to kill him."

Her aunt raised her eyebrow, lying stomach first on the bed, bending her legs up into the air. She was resting so casually, so at ease, all because there was no way Abby could make a move on her quick enough to kill her on her own. After all, she could read her thoughts still; Abby was not strong enough to block her out. Second, there was the matter of the two guards just outside the door.

"Did it ever occur to you that James knew any of this, regarding us," she smiled, her eyes full of question. "You never once thought why he moved you so frequently and to such random places?"

Abby admitted that she had thought about it, but thought it was because of their lives as vampires. There was no way to compel entire masses into just forgetting that they weren't aging. However, there were times where they were only in towns for a brief moment, seemingly fleeting times. It was as if they hopped off of wagons and trains only to immediately hit the next one. James would just explain that it didn't feel right or there were other, much better places to settle for a longer amount of time.

"How much did you _really_ know about you brother," Elisabeth asked. "Honestly. How well did you know him?"

"I'm not going to discuss that with someone who _murdered_ her own twin," Abby said with venom in her voice.

"Fair enough," Elisabeth sat up on the bed, tall and strong.

She got up and moved towards the door.

"I guess this is enough chit chat for one evening," she moved towards the door.

"NO," Abby suddenly stood up. "Why am I here? Where is my daughter?"

"April is _fine_-"

"_Show_ me she is _fine_," Abby demanded.

"I can't," her aunt smirked.

"Why is that? Is she not here? Is she even alive," Abby growled.

"No, no It's nothing like that at all. I can assure you, she's safe and asleep. We doused her with DMB as well, to make sure she was safe on the journey. We did not want her to struggle. She was our security deposit. We needed to make sure she was in tip-top shape. After all, there was always the chance that you wouldn't show if we didn't make that arraignment to take your daughter instead."

"Well, that still brings it to _me_ doesn't it? What do you want with _me?_"

Elisabeth took a step forward, smiling down at her niece.

"My dear, Abigail. You won't squander what your mother left for you. Without your brother, you will know all that the world has to offer you. You are not just some pathetic vampire; you are entitled."

"Enough of the cryptic bullshit," Abby seethed. "What does that mean?"

"It means we need you. Get some rest."

Abby pinned her against the wall, causing Elisabeth to chuckle.

"_Don't_, come in," Elisabeth commanded to the guards outside the door. "You're not needed."

Her aunt eyed her down.

"I am many, many years older than you, Abigail. I'd be careful if I were you."

"Well, you're not me," Abby hissed, her fangs extended.

"No, I'm not, and that is unfortunate for me now, isn't it," Elisabeth said, pushing Abby back across the room, her niece landing thunderously against the far wall. "For some reason, only the most unworthy get the rite, correct? Your mother, _you_-and there are those who would _die_ for it. One mere minute, one moment-in-time stopped me from being the one in charge. _One_. But now, I don't need to be it; you'll be in charge but you'll be my puppet. This time it will work.'

Elisabeth turned around leaving her niece slumped against the wall on the far side of the room.

She stopped just short of the door.

"Don't think that you are going to any answers or can demand them from me, little girl. I will tell you when I feel like it," she smirked. "You are not the one in charge."

She turned around in one sweeping motion, her hand placed on the door knob.

"Tell me, dear, you say that you trusted your brother...but did it ever occur to you how he was so much strong-and how he practically managed to take out Caleb? Think about it. I for one found it-quite peculiar."

Elisabeth exited the room, silently closing the door behind her, leaving Abby to muddle through her thoughts.

She thought back to that night that her brother died.

James had fought, and although he was injured, he _did_ manage to give Caleb fight-until it was just too much.

Caleb had made some comment that she did disregard at the time, but only then did it start to make sense.

She had gotten out of Caleb's grasp, retreating from his arms ripping her own out of her sockets, in an attempt to literally tear her limb-from-limb.

Although James had previously been injured in the fight almost to incapacitation, he still managed to pull Caleb off her.

"James, you're quite strong. Have you been cheating," Caleb had murmured to her brother.

James' response was for the villain to go to hell.

Did Caleb know something Abby didn't? Had James been 'cheating?' She didn't recognized his strength then as anything unusual; she just assumed that his care for her made it possible for him to find the strength. But, at that time, as drugged up on dead man's blood as he was, with half the injuries he had endured, she wasn't sure anymore.

In order to do what he had done, there was only one explanation: he had been drinking human blood.

From the way he fought back after all those injuries, there was no way it had just been for an afternoon. To gain the control and composure he had around humans, as well as the strength he had acquired, it had to have been from years. Many, many years. And, during those years, as she stood by her own convictions against drinking such blood, her brother supposedly steadfast in his own conviction beside her, he had been lying.

Her brother lied to her about knowing their mother's history and drinking human blood-what else could he have been hiding?

As her world was spinning, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Eleanor stood in front of her, her finger to her own lips, begging her to be quiet.

She helped Abby up and moved towards the now open wall.

A secret wall panel? Why didn't she just come in through the door?

Eleanor took her hand and lead her into the secret passage. Abby didn't know what to expect, but at that point, nothing would surprise her.

* * *

"Sam," Gwen stopped on the way back to the cabin. "Do you smell that?"

Sam sniffed the air like a German Shepard would sniff food. Nope. He had nothing.

"What is it," he asked.

"Blood," she replied with hesitation. "Blood but-different. Something is wounded."

It was the something part that made Sam take the safety off his gun.

Suddenly, Gwen took off to the right.

"GWEN," he yelled after her, his heart racing as he tried to keep up with her. Why in the blue hell would she just take off like that? Didn't she understand they needed her right then, Abby needed her?

"Gwen, slow the fuck down," Sam huffed, galloping over debris in his path.

It took him several minutes before he came to close to wear he thought she stopped.

A house?

In front of him was a dilapidated shack, the aged shutters hanging lopsided against the cracked windowpanes.

A groan sounded from within. Sam race towards the door, placing his body flat against the siding, leaning into the opening gun first.

"Why, Donovon," Gwen said. "Why would you betray the nest like this?"

Sam saw Gwen pinning down a much larger male vampire, three vials of dead man's blood protruding from his neck. She smashed his face to the floor.

"WHY?"

The male vampire just laughed, his spittle pooling on the wood below.

"Sam! Get in here," Gwen yelled.

Sam entered, pointing his gun at Donovon, moving his other hand to reach his knife just in case the vamp tried to make a move.

"Gwen, what the fuck is going on-"

"He's a member of the nest. That smell of blood-I was right, it was coming from something. Those somethings are vampires. They're down in the cellar and are hurt pretty bad."

Sam asked where the cellar was and how he could help.

"We need to get them out and fast. They need to get to safety. We'll call a vamp doc to get them medical attention."

"But, Gwen, what about Abby," Sam asked, curious as to why her priorities so drastically changed.

"Sam, this still may have something to do with that. This fucker," Gwen slammed the vampire's head against the splintered floor once more. "This fucker works for the nest. You may wonder why the fuck he's in northern-middle-of-no-where-Wisconsin? And if that doesn't surprise you, or let you think there's a connection-go to the cellar."

"Are you going to be okay with him alone with you," Sam asked, hoping she'd take his insistence for backup.

"I'm fine," she reassured. "Just go to them. Once I get my answers, I'll be done with him. Don't worry about it. The easiest way to get in is around the outside of the building by the back, there's a cellar door in the ground. Go!"

Sam followed her directions, making his way through the house and around the outer perimeter until he reached the opened door, the padlocked ripped clean off.

He hesitantly made his way down the stairs, the smell of blood finally reaching his nostrils, the scent mixed with dirt and sweat.

"Gw-Gwen," a voice chimed. It was female.

"Gwen, are you back," another voiced groaned in pain. That one was male. Not only that, but it was a voice he recognized.

"Dylan," he asked, his eyes scanning the darkness.

"Sam," his nephew's voice filled with surprise.

"Your uncle," the girl whispered. "We're over here."

She continued to talk, her voice leading him to them.

"Sam. Go to Sonora she needs help first," his nephew sighed.

"The hell I do, Dyl. Sam," she addressed him. "Sam, Dylan is in a lot of pain and is worse off than me. Get him out first."

Sam made his way over to his nephew, lifting him up in his arms, only finding his own now covered in sticky substance. He only had to guess that his young nephew had been the source of the aroma Gwen had picked up on.

"Sam, how are they," Gwen said, reappearing at the top of the cellar stairs, her own once neat clothes covered in blood.

"Get down here, Sonora. They need our help-and fast."


	39. A Looking in View

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

_

* * *

_

Sam carried Sonora in his arms, as her own loosely encircled his broad shoulders, barely able to maintain a secure grip. Gwen supported Dylan, and although slumped against her side for balance, was somehow trudging along on his own two feet. The ensemble were almost back to the family cabins, finally able to make out the slight luminescence of light streaming from the first-floor windows.

He paused momentarily to readjust the unconscious vampire in his arms and started up in a jog. Gwen followed suit, this time deciding to sling a combative Dylan over one shoulder and carry him to their destination.

"I _can_ walk," Dylan willfully argued.

"It will be much faster if I run to get you there. Just shut up and we'll be there in a minute," Gwen commanded before taking off at vampire speed, holding on tightly to her nephew.

Sam hastened his pace with his cargo, arriving at the cabins about five minutes after Gwen. Considering the distance and the fact that he was trying to keep pace with a vampire, five minutes was in a good time bracket. He just hoped it was good enough.

"What the hell, boy," Bobby interrogated, already at the door, holding it open as Sam entered with his weary cargo. "What in the blue hell is goin' on?"

He pushed passed the elder statesman and rushed over to an unoccupied couch, setting the injured Sonora on the lush cushions.

"Ruby, help Gwen take care of Sonora. Where's Dylan," he questioned a bit of panic in his timbre. His eyes searched the cabin, not seeing his wounded relative anywhere. Gwen sensed his trepidation, directing the worried kin towards the back bedroom.

Sam hurriedly ran to his nephew's aid with Bobby following close behind.

"Sam, _what is goin' on?_ Where's Dean?"

"Dean and Cas are waiting for me and Gwen to grab my car so we can keep following Abby's trail. We were on our way back here when Gwen pulled us off track because she smelled blood - turned out that it was from Dyl and Sonora. We didn't get the full story on how they ended up here, but either way they're hurt pretty bad."

Sam carefully flipped open his pocket knife to tear open Dylan's shirt, right where the blood was pooling under the fabric. There was a visible hole caused by a deep bullet wound in his nephew's upper shoulder. In spite of Dyl's vampire ability to rapidly heal, the injury was fresh in appearance with no visible clotting It didn't look pleasant.

"Shit," Bobby muttered, taking in the site of his adoptive grandkid in pain. "I'll be right back with the repair kit and some blood for him. Y'all keepin' it somewhere safe?"

Sam described the location, it was being housed in a locked freezer in Abby and Dean's private cabin. Bobby nodded and headed up to the smaller cabin, returning with a bag full of the necessary supplies.

"Glad I got this by the kid before he saw me. That Jamie is mighty perceptive," Bobby explained, setting down the bag and emptying the contents onto a beside table. "Ruby thought it was best to keep Jamie up at his folk's cabin and away from all this bullshit, especially with April missing. We're trying to keep him out of it all."

Bobby twisted the top off of the whiskey bottle, turning the cap over and filling it to the rim. He put it to his grandson's lips and instructed him to drink.

"You'll need it, son," Bobby said, taking a seat next to Dylan, putting a thread through a surgical needle. "Listen, Sam, I'll take care of Dylan and Sonora. You and Gwen get back out there and search for Abby. Any idea of where she is or how she's doing?"

"No. We have an idea of where she went but - we still don't know how she is..."

Dylan groaned and tried again to place himself upright.

"What do you think you're doing, son," Bobby shouted, gently pushing Dylan back down onto the bed.

"Mom's in trouble," Dylan asked, hissing as his shoulder hit the blanket underneath his body.

"Don't worry about it, Dyl," Sam soothed. "We'll take care of it. You just need to get better, okay?"

"No. No. I need to-," the young man tried to sit up again, his chest meeting Bobby's open hand, pressing him back down.

"You just lay down and shut up," Bobby ordered. "Stand down, boy. Sam has it covered, alright? Sam, you and Gwen need to get out and help Dean. God knows he probably isn't just sitting and waiting around for your asses."

That was a very good point.

Sam headed out the door, signaling for Gwen to follow.

* * *

Dean sighed in exhaustion, finally arriving at the peak of a forest-choked hill. Although he and Castiel were very lost and it might not be a great move on his part, he figured it would better to get higher up for a better vantage point.

Cas finally arrived at Dean's side, his head drenched with beads of sweat.

"Was there a point to that wearying climb," Cas complained, brushing off bits of leaves and dirt from his jeans.

"Wow, whine much," Dean sniggered. "Yeah, we need to get higher up so we can see if there's...jackpot."

"To see if there's a jackpot? What is that supposed to mean?"

Dean put a finger to his lips, a gesture to make sure Cas got the memo to shut his cake-hole. With his other hand, he pointed to a lone glimmering spot in the middle of the woods. Light.

It didn't appear to be a flare caused by a fire. No, the glow was reflective as if it were shining off of a pane of glass. There had to be a window between the source and their view.

"Dean, is that a house down there," Cas whispered.

Bingo. Give that boy a medal.

"Should we investigate?"

No. Not yet. That was too risky with only the two of them on hand. It was best to stop and hold up for a while, keeping their position until back-up arrived. Besides, they could take a better looksie at the location from afar. After all, if whoever took Abby was organized, there was no telling how many supernaturals could be surrounding the joint.

Dean and Cas took positions leaning up against some broken tree trunks, keeping a close eye on all of their surroundings. So far, so good.

A crack of a branch sounded behind them.

Dean cocked his gun and skillfully pivoted around to face his assailant. He was knocked backwards and pushed to the ground, his gun hit away. His eyes gaped up his attacker.

"Gwen," he exclaimed. "What the hell?"

"Do _you_ have _any idea_ what he went through to get here, Dean."

He looked at her covered head-to-toe in mud, her blue eyes icy.

"Dean," Sam whispered, catching his breathe behind the quarreling twosome. "You okay?"

"He's _fine_," Gwen answered through gritted teeth before Dean was able to get a word in edge wise. She paused momentarily before continuing on with her tantrum. "Why couldn't you listen for one _measly_ minute? Can't you follow simple instructions? How the fuck has Abby stayed with you all this time if this is what she's had to deal with for years?"

"But-"

"Cram it, Winchester. Do you know what it took to get here? Or, do you know how much it's going to cost Sam to fix the suspension on his truck? We drove over trees, holes, all sorts of miserable shit to get to where you two were supposed to be! And _then_...NO you couldn't be waiting there happily for us, could you? No, you're _Dean_ Winchester, so you just can't stay put. So, I had to get out of the car and literally sniff my way to track down your ass while your brother drove around following me!"

Sam came up to Dean, and instead of helping him up, reached into his brother's pocket, taking out his cellphone and turning the power on.

"Keep it on, at least on vibrate," Sam fumed, tossing the phone back to his older brother.

The younger Winchester was obviously upset by the fact that he couldn't get in touch with him. Sam's face was worried, his posture rigid.

"Dude, I'm sorry," Dean admitted as he rose to a seated position. "See, it's on now. I didn't mean to make you think -"

"Just please...shut up," Sam said, taking a kneeling stance next to his brother. "Okay, so what are we looking at?"

* * *

Abby cautiously followed the female vampire down a set of stone steps which dead ended at a mysterious iron door. That wasn't too comforting.

Eleanor's hands felt around in the dark, searching for knobs on the apparently secured opening. Finding the protrusions wouldn't be a problem; the door had many. There were almost twenty from Abby's short count.

Eleanor turned two seemingly random handles; the right twisted to the left, the left one to pivoted to the right. The door creaked open.

The blonde gestured with a nod of her head for Abby to enter.

With the two of them inside the tight confines, Eleanor sealed the heavy iron door behind them. She did it was such stealth that it was truly astounding. They had not made one discernible, intelligible sound upon crossing the threshold.

"Now we can talk, but we must remain discreet," Eleanor started in a breathy whisper.

"Why here," she inquired, taking in the dark surroundings with her vampire sight.

"This used to be a speakeasy," her aunt explained as Abby's eyes surveyed the odd surroundings. "Mobsters would take snitches here for 'questioning' in this room; the room and the entire corridor leading to this point are completely soundproof. In this vault, you could literally shoot someone with a tommy gun and I doubt the person outside the door could hear the grisly act transpiring. Even so, I always like to be extra cautious with my sister's around; their hearing is obviously more powerful than your average human being."

Eleanor silently paced back and forth in the covert room, her gauzy night sheath skimming the damp, cement floor. Her aunt's heart-shaped lips were pursed, her eyes deep in thought.

"We must be brief...but I brought you here for a specific reason - "

Abby impatiently cut in, asking outright why she had been brought down to the muggy pit. Perhaps Abby wasn't thinking clearly; she was on edge and letting her own curiosity get the best of her. After all, she was in search of answers and had been for some time. There they were, maybe right on the tip of Eleanor's tongue. She took a deep breathe and steadied herself, wondering if all was finally going to be revealed.

Eleanor leaned closer, her mouth only slightly open, as if questioning if she should release the words behind those lips. She was going to speak, she was going to finally give an explanation for everything; for Abby's whole life.

She could be seconds away from some semblance of meaning for all the miserable shit in her life.

"What my sisters are doing...no, what Elisabeth is doing, is not right. You shouldn't be here."

Before Abby could interject to ascertain the goal of Elisabeth's true motive, Eleanor swiftly raised her hand, noiselessly instructing the younger vampire to remain silent.

"My sister is an accomplished liar. Her speech can come off as quite eloquent, a skill that has rendered many men penniless and left behind many others as corpses. I - I am not sure how I may earn your trust. After all, I didn't stop them from bringing you here," she unwillingly admitted, remorse written on her face.

The guilt-ridden vampire didn't know how to earn Abby's trust, so she offered up a secret in good faith; she disclosed that what Elisabeth had revealed about James Stuart, Abby's brother, was the truth.

He had indeed broken his own vow and consumed human blood for years; all so he would be strong enough to protect his dear little sister. Members of their extended family had searched for Abigail and James for you for a long time, literally scouring the world for any sign of the elusive siblings. After they figured out that she and James had made it out of St. Augustine alive, the Norris' sent out an all points bulletin. Pity for them that technology was practically nonexistent in those days; such things had only made it easier to track them down in the present.

Over the years, Eleanor had developed her own contacts. With some hired help, she did her own research and was eventually able to track down her niece and nephew. She sat on the knowledge, keeping it a closely guarded secret; for her eyes only. Eleanor did not impart or use the information until she sensed the pair were in immediate danger

"I sent a letter warning your brother in 1912. Problem was, my crafty sisters figured it out around the same time. They sent Alice to get you two -"

Abby remarked the name had indeed sparked a memory; she had seen the name Alice Norris on the passenger survivor list of the Titanic, as had her brother on the day the _Carpathia_ arrived in New York City. That day had always felt odd; the day James forced them to leave New York and the East Coast all together with no warning. There was no deliberation or argument; he demanded that she pack her bags. If Abby hadn't left on her own free will, she had no doubt that James would have burned the house to the ground to burn the evidence that they ever existed, physically dragging her away to some new place of origin; to start over for the twentieth time or so.

"Unfortunately," the elder vampire continued, "Alice was injured in the sinking and had to steal away before rescuers could force her to see a doctor upon her on her arrival at the port. Before my other sisters embarked to claim Alice, you and James had already fled. You have no idea how infuriated Elisabeth was at Alice for missing you two by that much." Eleanor illustrated the minimal amount with her thumb and finger almost touching.

Eleanor took a step closer to Abby, placing a gentle hand on her niece's shoulder.

"Abigail, you are in danger still. Here. Now - and I am going to make sure you remain unharmed."

Abby was trying to make sense of all the incoming knowledge, her head swimming with the thoughts of the past and possibilities. It was a lot to digest all at once. Her true past, the one behind the curtain put up by her brother, was being revealed. She didn't quite know how to take it all in.

If she thought all of that was hard to swallow, nothing could prepare her for what her aunt was about to divulge.

"Our family was descendent from the very first vampire, granting certain gifted blood relatives as vessels. I am not referring to just any vessel, but one born for a very specific being; the first vampire. Lilith."

All the blood rushed from Abby's face, her temples pulsating in her head in a terrible rhythm.

There was a name she hoped to never hear again in any context. With that name came an image, becoming clearer by the instant; her mind focused on the vision that haunted her everyday for the past ten years. In her mind's eye was a young girl with white eyes, playfully grasping the hand of a very young April Winchester. She remembered the last words Lilith had uttered before Abby finally blacked out in an attempt to save her daughter:"Now, Abby, I need your help right now. If not, I'm gonna go get my little friend April."

Eleanor further explained the Lilith/Norris connection.

"The Norris' are Lilith's direct descendants, making our family endowed with royalty status and specific rites of passage, some of them mythical. With the privileges also comes duty and supposed honor; the first born daughter in the family is the _true_ vessel, the only carrier that is strong enough to handle the horrific effects of Lilith's powerful demonic presence. Ann was a vessel as the first daughter. You may not have been born first in your family, but you are still the first girl, so it became your burden to bear..."

"Which means..._April_," Abby realized with a shock, her stomach twisting into a bundle of sickening knots. April was her first and only daughter and would also qualify as a carrier. Eleanor nodded in acknowledgement.

Her aunt admitted that after 1912, the family searched high and low for ancient texts and spells that would allow a viable substitute to take Lilith instead of Abby. Once many years had passed, they couldn't wait any longer.

Eleanor begrudgingly admitted she didn't have time to go into drastic detail, but there were rules for vessels and demons. There were certain times and rituals that needed to be done at specific times in order to be successful. The more powerful the demon, the more complicated the resurrection.

The blonde vampire suddenly put a hand up, her finger to her lip, signaling for them to remain quiet and still. Abby could not make out a sound, but clearly, her aunt sensed something. With over a hundred years on her, the younger vampire trusted the elder's instinct.

"We need to go," the blonde vampire revealed, "but before we do, do you recall the last time Lilith returned to Earth?"

Abby nodded. How could she forget?

"Lilith needed to be summoned once the first seal was broken. The last time, the first seal was Dean breaking his humanity during his stay in The Pit. Once we discovered it had been destroyed, my sisters completed the ritual to raise Lilith. They used a vessel that was too weak and Lilith had to keep moving from meatsuit to meatsuit. A few months ago, another important seal was broken...and they choose another vessel that was far too weak. They used my daughter. I - I didn't know until it was too late. She was fourteen-years old. She died within a few minutes. Lilith never fully regain control of my daughter, thus making the entire process a waste. The extent on my daughter was just too much to bear. My Lydia was not the first nor the last of people Elisabeth has used; she's destroyed too many lives. And now - another seal is busted wide open and the Dark Moon is approaching. It's time to summon Lilith to earth once more."

The sheer thought of everything that she, Dean and Sam had fought so valiantly for, everything they and their friends had sacrificed was happening over again released terror in her that she had never felt.

Eleanor blurred passed Abby and opened the door, signaling for her niece to follow. She allowed the younger to go first, moving quickly behind her, forcing a rapid pace.

The wall opening remained cracked open, soft light from the room glowing through the thin strip. Abby made it through as Eleanor came through the entrance, closing the door shut.

The elder vampire made no pause and headed directly for the fireplace, pushing some objects quickly on the mantle, causing another wall panel to open.

"You need to play for now, Abby," Eleanor whispered, her person already half-way through the newest secret opening. "I promise, I will help you and your daughter escape. I need a little time and a plan. It's too dangerous right now. You have my word that I will not abandon you."

She looked her relative in the eye, all the sadness and regret of all the misdeeds the Norris family committed were reflecting in tears. Eleanor was truly sorry about the atrocities that were done on Abby and her family, past and present. She opened her mind up to the elder vampire and saw in her mind only good intentions, before closing her own mental shield again.

"Thank you," Abby whispered.

Eleanor nodded and quickly disappeared, the wall noiselessly sealing in her wake.

She was once again alone in the opulent room. It was quiet, the only noise was the crackling and pops coming from the dying fire.

Abby sat on the edge of the bed. She shut her eyes, forcing her rage and tears aside. For all she had done to keep April out of any of her familiar issues, away from the same that she experienced as a young girl herself, it came back to haunt her family. There was no stopping the destruction. It was in their blood.

* * *

Dean watched the flickering lights in the distance, focusing on any changes. He noted when the lights turned off in one room and turned on in another. He paid mind to any noises, close or far, trying to see if anything supernatural from the building were doing permitter sweeps.

He was doing anything not to focus on the most recent news from Sam that his son had also become a victim. There were no words in his vocab to thank Sammy and Gwen for helping his boy in time.

"So what do you think," Sam asked, his brow furrowed, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Gwen - you okay to run," Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the lighted structure about a mile away.

She answered with a resounding yes, lightning splintering the sky above her head.

"Do you think you could make some sort of weather diversion," he questioned, hoping that she was still charged enough.

Thunder rolled above.

"What do you need," she smirked.

"We need cover. Fog, wind, rain - whatever you can cook up," he answered, saying that she'll need to get down there first and start it up.

Gwen nodded, saluting and standing up.

Before she could get away, Cas stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

"Please be careful," he warned her.

She smiled, putting a hand on his cheek and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"I'll be fine," she pulled back, putting her hands on either side of his face. "This is for Abby and April. Okay? For Abby."

With that, she kissed his cheek before blurring out of sight.

Cas sighed, asking Dean if he really thought what they were about to do was a good idea.

He just tossed Cas a gun.

From what he'd seen down there, there were about ten guards outside; who knew how many were within the walls of the aging building's exterior. To be honest, he didn't fucking care. All he wanted was to get Sam, Gwen and Cas in to get Abby and April out. He didn't give a fuck about himself. Whoever was in there had fucked with the wrong family.

As long as Abby, April, Dyl and Jamie were okay, he was fine with whatever happened to him.

"Let's roll."


	40. Like No Other Night

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

**_AUTHOR NOTE: _ We're getting to the nitty gritty and that's why it's been hard to write. That, and the website wouldn't let me update for a few weeks. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam hand-signaled gestured Dean, relaying the message to his older brother to get low and out of sight.

He pressed himself up against the log siding of the large building, turning back to see that Dean had also gotten out of view. Somewhere close to Dean, taking shelter in the dark shadowy silhouette of the expansive building, was Cas.

It was a stupid idea to just go in like they were; guns a blazing.

Dean was never one for planning.

Sam didn't necessarily think the move was a bright one, but he was going to stand by his brother. After all, wouldn't he do the same thing if Dean was trapped somewhere? Or Bobby?

Family was family, and it was a high probability that his sister-in-law was in there for sure; god only knew where his niece could be. He only hoped they were both all right.

A loud commotion broke out on the other side of the large structure. The sounds were off in the distance but nevertheless was the sign they needed. It was their cue. Gwen was doing what she was supposed to do; causing a much needed distraction, leading far away from their approach.

It was just what they needed.

Sam signaled for them to move.

"Any signs of a way in," Dean whispered, hustling next to him.

"No. These windows are all soldered shut," he muttered, jiggling the metal frame. " I haven't come across any doors yet. Keep a look out for any kind of cellar that we could get into."

Dean moved ahead of Sam, his gun in one hand, machete in the other.

The brothers and their friend scanned from foundation to roof for any opening that would allow them inside the building's confines. There was zilch.

"Come on," Dean hissed in frustration, kicking the outer wall, perhaps in the hopes that something would give way. Nothing happened.

Sam realized they were moving closer and closer to the diversionary scrimmage on the opposite side.

"Dean, we have to get out of here," Sam said. "If there is even an opening on the other wing, we won't be able to get to it! Gwen is over on that side fighting."

His brother looked back at him, his eyes dark with determination.

"Dean," Cas pleaded. "We can try again-we can get them-"

"No," Dean growled. "Look, you guys wanna go, then go. I'm stayin'."

Sam glanced back at Cas, who was standing behind him. They both had a mutual, non-verbal accord; there was no in Hell they were going to just leave Dean to try to break the girls out alone. They arrived and one and they'd leave as one...or die trying.

The trio moved forward towards the South corner of the building. It was only then that Sam realized the noise on the other side had died down.

"Hey...I don't hear anything - do you," Sam whispered to his elder brother.

As Dean turned around, an angry scowl on his face, a blur suddenly appeared behind him.

"DEAN," Sam yelled.

It was too late.

Dean was knocked against the hard wall, his breathe coming out in a choked gasp.

Frantically, Sam ran to his brother's aide, until another blur appeared, this time moving behind himself. Sam altered his course and veered off, headed in Cas' direction.

He pushed Cas out of the way, placing his own body in the path of the hazy form.

His back smashed against the cabin's lumber exterior with a thud; wind was knocked from his lungs.

Sam's eyes met his attacker, who was currently busy holding him up by his neck with one hand. Her eyes were dark, the veins around the pupils a horrible shade of purple. She had her fangs fully extended.

Vampire.

With his free hand, Sam grabbed his gun loaded with special hollow-wooden bullets filled with dead man's blood. He took his shot, aiming straight for the heart and pulling the trigger.

The dark-haired vampire yelped and fell backwards from the impact, releasing Sam from her grasp.

As she slumped, Sam landed on his feet and reached for the machete tucked into his belt loop. Before he managed to pull it out, the female vamp hissed and zoomed out of sight.

He turned his attention to Dean, who already had his male attacker on the ground, the machete poised to deliver a deadly blow.

Cas was not having the same luck.

Sam rushed over to him, taking the other male vampire by surprise and lopping his head off in one move.

A blood spattered Cas laid under the vampire's decapitated remains.

"You okay," Sam heaved as he helped his friend from the ground.

Cas nodded, taking out his own modified vampire-hunting pistol.

Dean was already making his way over.

Over his brother's shoulder, he saw more shadows in the night, quickly gaining closing the distance between them.

"We've got company," Cas said, focusing in the same direction as Sam.

"Shoot for the heart or head, then we chop em," Dean ordered. "Cas, you hang back and take as many shots of them to slow them down."

He nodded.

The first of the calvary was already in front of them, taut and snarling.

Cas shot, Dean lopped.

One down. From the looks of it, a dozen more to go.

As the onslaught approached, they had an efficient system going. Shoot. Slice.

After they managed to take down four or five, Sam found himself on the ground.

Another group had made a sneak attack from the other side of the building.

"Don't kill them," a female had ordered. "Take them alive."

With a disgruntled huff, two vampires picked up Sam and started to carry him off.

Dean was still fighting with his captors. Cas was rendered unconscious by the two vampires escorting him.

"CAS!"

Gwen blurred from the woods to the right and knocked into the vampires who had ahold of her human boyfriend.

The vampires left the knocked-out human on the ground and turned their attention to Gwen. She was hovering over Cas, protecting him from any more assaults.

"Gwen," Sam yelled, as he struggled to get away from his captors. The remaining swarm of vampires focused their efforts on the pretty blonde vampire protecting her human. There were now around eight pissed vamps, not including the four that held onto Dean and Sam; two of which had finally gotten a hold of Dean and knocked him out cold.

The vampires circled their prey. Gwen was screwed.

"Take Cas and get out of here," Sam yelled.

Gwen looked at him and nodded, grabbing for Cas to make her escape.

As she took off in her run with her boyfriend in her arms, a rogue vampire grabbed onto Cas' dangling leg and yanked. He flew backwards, his back skidding across the ground and back into the property of the enemy.

Gwen pivoted for a moment, staggering her steps in decision. Should she go back or keep running?

With tears in her eyes, she made her decision and ran. She was out of view in a mere second.

Good. She could go for help. That was the last thing Sam thought of before he was hit in the head and everything went black.

* * *

The crude duct-tape blindfold was ripped from her face as she tumbled down stone steps. She landed face first onto a wet stone floor.

Someone chuckled from behind.

April twisted, seeing a sliver of light appear through a small opening in a heavy door.

A silhouetted woman's face was in the darkness, the only thing apparent was her sadistic grin.

"I'd be carful if I were you," the female warned in a sing-song voice.

The mysterious woman's laugh was epilogued by the bang of the small opening in the door being slammed shut.

'_Careful?'_

Why would she have to be careful?

She was in a damp, stone room with no windows; no source of light. Like most of her childhood fears finally realized, April was literally swallowed up by the darkness.

Even her vampire eyes weren't any match for the complete lack of light.

With a sigh, April groggily made her way across the floor, finally finding the edge of a wall to lean against.

There she sat, closing her eyes, hoping it would make her feel better about her current situation. It could be worse than getting kidnapped by vampires, right? At least she was alive.

She'd be fine...she'd be fine...her mom and dad were probably already well-aware of what happened to her. They were already on their way to her. All April had to do was be careful.

The mysterious woman's words echoed once again in her head: _'I'd be careful if I were you.'_

Something shuffled on the other side of the room.

Her eyes flew open.

"Hello," she whispered, uncertain of she should be saying a word.

More shuffling.

"Hello," she tried again.

Nothing.

However unwise in her own mind, she cautiously moved towards the rustling.

"Stay back," a strained voice ordered.

The voice was parched and filled with pain. She could almost feel it. Whoever it was wasn't there to harm; they were a prisoner like herself.

She continued her approach.

"I'm not going to hur-"

"I said STAY _BACK_," the voice growled.

Her heart stopped. April may not have been able to see him, but she could hear who it was even through the gravely tremors of the voice.

She warily spoke the name.

"Wes?"

There was a sigh from across the room. She called his name again, asking for affirmation of any kind.

All she got as a reply was a muffled groan. That was enough for her.

April moved towards him as she could hear him moving frantically away.

"Are you stupid? I said back off," he screeched.

"Why," she asked as she searched for his form.

With a little effort, she found his ankle.

She squeezed and grabbed onto it, taking in the fact that he was indeed really there.

Her fingers traced his skin in the dark. His ankle was far too bony.

"April, please get away," he pleaded. If he was so concerned, why wasn't _he_ getting away?

Her hands felt farther and farther up his form, skimming over his body until her hands reached his bare chest.

April's fingers skimmed over the once well-built body, now skin and bones. He sighed under her touch.

Farther up, her hands held his face, tracing the contours as he was turning away from her.

"April...get back...I'm...I'm so _hungry_," he spoke.

Beneath her fingers, she felt his canines under his lips. They were extending without his control.

"Get away..._now_," he snarled.

His tone caused her to jump back, falling into the opposite wall where she had started. Her back was pressed as firmly against the hard surface behind her as far as it could.

Now that her eyes had adjusted slightly more to the intense darkness, she could make out the slight predator reflection of his eyes across the room. They were getting closer; the only door in the room was locked...and that meant she was trapped.

He growled.

From his emaciated form, she knew he was hungry. Only then she also realized that _she_ was half human. Her mind tripped over the thought; would her mingled blood be something he would crave or was he so hungry that anything would do?

The glow of his eyes were instantly gone, causing her heart to skip. Where was he in the dark room?

His strained groan echoed from across the room, his eyes softly flickering.

"Stay over on that side," he huskily ordered. "Don't fucking come over here again."

She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs.

In the stillness of the room, her mind released the flood of thoughts that had been dammed up during her kidnapping. So many questions ran through her head: where was she? What were they planning to do with her? Were her parents aware of her kidnapping?

But, out of the hundreds scrolling through her mind, one was paramount: "Wes?"

"What," he hissed.

"They told me you were dead."

He chuckled, asking who might have given her that incorrect information.

"Let me guess," he interrupted. "Jesse perhaps?" He chuckled with his harsh voice, choking on his words and coughing. Apparently, something was very amusing to him. "Well, it's to be expected. I'm actually surprised to be alive myself. Guess they have some reason to keep me here like this - or should I say, someone has a reason."

April didn't need to see him to know that he was in immense pain, both emotionally and physically. What he was being put through was nothing short of torture. Had he been there for all those weeks? Had he been lying there while his stomach consumed itself, as his muscles atrophied and his skin took on a tanned-leathered, mummified texture?

If so, how much longer would he last?

She needed him. After thinking he was dead and truly gone, she couldn't take the chance of losing him again. Being in the same room once more, it was too close. Besides, she reasoned that if she discovered a way to make a break for it, she'd definitely need him. At least then she knew of one person on her side.

With a gasp, she dug her nails into her arm. She could smell the blood almost immediately.

Wes could as well.

"What are you doing," he asked, sounding in pain.

"Helping you," she whispered. "We're going to need each other if we're going to get out of here alive."

He protested, his voice shaky, nothing that there was 'no way in hell either of them were going to make it out in one piece'. Wes was resisting her generous offering.

She squeezed her arm, feeling the flow of blood gaining momentum down her arm.

His hand sought her own in the dark, his chilled fingers dancing up her flesh until it touched the warm liquid.

He was scared. He didn't think he could stop. He thought he would kill her. April could sense it; she knew the internal turmoil he was putting himself through.

She pulled him by the arm with care, closer to her, putting her arm up to his face.

April offered herself up again and promised him that she would stop him; he wouldn't hurt her. That was the truth. A baby could knock him over. She was that much stronger than him in his current state.

With a sigh filled with remorse, he relented putting his lips upon her skin and bit down.

* * *

Fuck, he was getting too old for that crap.

The side of Dean's head was resting on a moist, cold surface. His fingers could make out some indentations and texture in the floor. It was concrete.

He opened his eyes, his skull pounding from the blow to the skull he had taken earlier, and found nothing. It was pitch black.

Dean left his eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to the lack of light. After five minutes, he still couldn't see his hand right in front of his face.

"Sam," Dean asked in the darkness, his voice gravely. "Sammy?"

"Dean?"

He twisted towards where the voice had originated. He couldn't see nothin'.

"Where are you," Dean asked, crawling on the ground towards his brother's voice.

"Over here," Sam said. "Hey, Dean, there's a small hole in the wall. I think I'm in another room."

They separated them? Awesome. What a bunch of dicks.

He scooted across the floor, following Sam's voice. Sure enough, there was a hole big enough for a least a hand to get through. Sam's was there. Good, he found him.

"You don't happen to have a light on you, do ya Sam," Dean asked.

Sam chuckled, mentioning that he was always prepared.

"Give me," he ordered his younger brother.

Sam passed him the light through the opening in the wall.

He took the small flashlight and a looked around his own cell, his brother asking him for a clear description as he searched for any kind of weakness.

The room was damp; shining with moisture on the walls. No windows. Only one entrance; a heavy wooden door with a very small peering hole near the top. The bolt or lock on the other side was solid. The door itself was almost a foot thick.

One thing that was interesting were a few brown and reddish-purple stains that streaked through the center of the room; the colors drifting towards the opening to Sam's cell.

That was about it. Nothing to write home about.

He slid the flashlight back to his brother in the secured room to his right.

Dean could make out the misty blue light of a halogen light through the small gap between the brothers' rooms.

He pressed himself against the ground, his cheek to the floor, to get a peek through the small opening into Sam's cell.

Sam's space dramatically sloped down on the sides towards the center of the room. There was a massive grate in the center. Maybe that was their ticket out? Dean didn't need to make the suggestion; Sam was already prying it up.

His brother quietly placed it to the side and checked down inside.

"It's definitely a hole, but it's not deep. It's meant for draining I think," Sam said.

Draining...draining what? That didn't sound comforting.

"It smells too...it smells like...wine? Alcohol," Sam questioned, putting his face farther down the hole.

Sam raised his light to the gap that connected him to Dean's room, blinding the older brother in the process.

"A little warning, please," Dean complained.

"Sorry," Sam chuckled. "Dean, those stains run from your room down mine and into this grate. It was used for draining. If it was for alcohol, I think I know where we are; I think we're in a cellar of a that lodge. Dillinger and gangsters used to hide out in northern Wisconsin all the time so I'm guessing this place was either a speakeasy or a pit stop for bootleggers back in the days of Prohibition. When the fuzz would show up, they'd break the barrels and all the evidence would go down this drain."

"Dude, did you just refer to them as 'the fuzz?' Christ," Dean sighed. "Is Cas in there with you?"

"No, but there's another hole on the other side of my room," he said, followed by the sounds of shuffling. "He's in the room to my left!"

He asked Sammy if he could see if Cas was conscious; he answered that Cas was knocked out cold.

Super.

Dean leaned his back against the wall with the small opening, hearing his brother do the same on his side.

No food, no water and who knew how long they'd be stuck there.

"Sammy, we got to find a way out of here. If we're in the building, we have a better chance of getting everyone out. We need to come up with a plan."

* * *

She couldn't sleep.

There was no way in Hell.

She did try. She had laid on the soft bed with her eyes shut tight, but instead falling asleep, her mind was met with images she did not want to recall.

Her brother, unhappy with her. Her mother constantly lying to her. A little girl with white eyes...and then one more image of herself with white eyes reflected in a pond.

With that one, Abby's eyes snapped opened. No, there would be no sleep.

She did not turn when she heard her door open.

"You've been summoned," the male said. "Lady Elisabeth requests your presence immediately."

Abby rolled her eyes, her heart clenching at the mere mention of her traitorous aunt's name. If there was one thing on Earth she'd rather not be doing, it was listening to that bitch. But, what choice did she have? She was outnumbered, injured and famished.

She slowly got up out of bed and tossed on a heavy robe.

Two men escorted her down the hall; one behind and one in front, up a labyrinth of stairs and through doors. She was too tired to pay attention.

Finally, they stopped and opened the door, ushering her in.

She stepped in, the door slowly closing behind.

The room was a study with a vast collection of books and exotic taxidermic animals. In the center of the room in front of an immense fireplace, were two very large, very ornate chairs. Seated in one was Elisabeth.

"Sit," her enemy smiled, gesturing with her hand for her niece to take a seat.

Abby stood firmly planted near the door.

"Tea," her aunt asked, pouring two cups into gold-filagree cups.

Still, she stood her ground.

"I really do hope you participate, my dear niece. Your daughter is counting on you," Elisabeth smirked.

Abby sighed. Her daughter's safety was the only thing that stood in her way of ripping out Elisabeth's throat. Her daughter's safe returned required obedience.

She took her seat.

Her aunt was staring at her inquisitively.

"I can't get over how much you remind me of your mother," Elisabeth remarked, sitting causally in her seat, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her hands were wrapped around her legs, cradling her teacup. She looked like she was in conversation at a slumber party. It was so eerily casual.

Abby wasn't sure how to respond to her aunt's observation. 'Thanks' or 'Thanks for killing her?'

After all, she didn't quite know the truth; all she had gotten upon arriving was the Cliff's Notes version.

She stared at her aunt. Her face was so young, so calm; she was, dare Abby say it, beautiful.

The one thing that did struck her, and pulled at her heartstrings, was that she indeed bare a striking resemblance to her twin sister. Abby's mother; Ann.

They remained in a standoff; immersing themselves in awkward silence. The only sound was from Elisabeth stirring her tea and the crackling of the fire.

Between the quiet and the same fire snapping that has been continuous noise in her prison, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Why-"

"Pardon," Elisabeth said, smiling across from Abby.

"Why did you go after my mother," Abigail finally asked.

Elisabeth paused, putting her tea down on the table beside her, her posture becoming not as relaxed.

"She betrayed my family, Abigail. Our family," her aunt said matter-of-factly. "You don't understand the implications of her betrayal at all...the context -"

"Try me."


	41. What Can I Do?

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

**_AUTHOR NOTE: _I am so sorry for the delay! I have not had any time to update till recently. In November, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl, and she has been taking up most of my time. However, this story has been creeping back into my mind recently. I am doing my best to finish it in the best way possible. This is not the longest chapter I have written, but I needed to get it out to get back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoy and thank you to those who have waited so patiently.  
**

Abby stared out the window, looking up at the sky. The Dark Moon was approaching; only a night away.

The blood in her ran cold at the thought.

"Do you need anything, Lady Abigail," a servant girl asked.

Abby turned around, her satin gown following her.

"No, I am fine," she smiled, ordering the girl away.

Left alone, she was immersed in her thoughts. Abby was still trying to digest the revelations of the night

before.

Her aunt had remained stoic, even through the telling of her own story, one she had been so passionate about only a day or so before.

Abby was finally about to find out from her aunt why her mother so special, and in turn, what made Abby such a commodity.

"Have you heard of Lilith," her aunt asked, staring down at her tea, stirring the scalding beverage with her bare finger.

_'Heard of Lilith?' _She had got to be kidding, right?

"Well, have you," her voice raised slightly.

"Yes, I have," Abby answered.

"And you know she is our Mother? As a Lamia, we are descended from her. When she left Adam and went with the demons, she gave birth to us. The ones who were born, and not made, are descended from Lilith. However, those in our family, are _directly_ from her; we can trace our family tree back straight to Lilith."

The hairs on the back of Abby's neck stood on end. It was not the first time she had heard it, hearing it previously in secret from Eleanor, but it was still cringe worthy. After all, she was an ultimate evil, one that herself, angels and the Winchesters had fought so valiantly to defeat.

"But—the first born daughters of the family are most special. See, my mother was the second and did not get such an honor, but _your_ mother was the _first_ daughter. She had a purpose. As a teenager, she was to-"

"What was she supposed to do," Abby interrupted, unable to stop herself from shaking, her drink spilling over the rim.

"First born daughters are the true vessels, my dear. They are the only ones that can hold in Lilith; all her true power are theirs...as will be yours."

"_What_," Abby asked, her voice quivering.

Her aunt continued on with her stirring, not bothering to make eye contact with her clearly startled niece.

"You're the vessel. The last time Lilith tried to come back, we couldn't find you. That was my mistake. I was too hasty, but now—here you are," she smiled. "Now we can finally have an official homecoming for our Mother."

It was only then her aunt raised her gaze to her niece, staring at her with venomous intensity. Her lips curved up into a deadly smirk.

"Tomorrow night, as the Dark Moon rises, the symbol of Lilith, we will summon her into your body. You will no longer be Abigail."

Abby stared at her, her fear subsiding in a move for self-preservation but regardless, she could feel her anger rising. So this was what her mother, her father, her brother lied to her for? To protect her from this fate? Yet, there she was. What a waste—she had to fight.

"What if I refuse," Abby hissed.

Elisabeth just smiled.

"You won't. We have your daughter, remember? Oh, and did I mention we also have Samuel, Castiel...and your beloved Dean?"

Abby dropped the cup to the floor., the fragile porcelain scattering across the cold wooden floor.

_No, not all of them. _With just her daughter, she might have a chance to plan an escape, but not all of them.

"But, if you agree to our arrangement and will not put up a fight—I'm feeling generous. If you consent to be the vessel, right here and now, I will set Dean and the rest of the captives free. Does that sound like a deal," she said, extending her hand.

Abby did not accept the gesture. There _had_ to be something else to the deal. Why would Elisabeth just blow away all her bargaining chips?

"What's the catch," Abby asked.

Elisabeth simpered.

"Smart girl. Perhaps you have a little bit of me in you. Always suspicious about conspiracy," she laughed. "The catch is, I don't want the Winchesters to ruin the ceremony tomorrow night. We only have _one_ shot; they mustn't interfere. They are free to go...but I can't have them return to get yo-"

"Not possible," Abby chimed in, "if Dean knows I'm here, come Hell or high water, he'll keep trying to get me out-"

"Not if he thinks you are on _our side_," Elisabeth grinned.

"_What?_"

"You'll go to him and convince him that you have joined us."

Abby laughed. Dean would never believe that. There wasn't one thing she could possibly do to make him think that.

Elisabeth slammed her cup down on the floor.

"You _will_ make him believe you or I will _kill_ him! This is a gift for you agreeing, Abigail. Do not take it for granted! You will convince him that you have joined us, with any means necessary, or he will stay locked up and die at my choosing!"

Her heart was in her throat. Abby thought about her options; there were none left. Elisabeth finally had her where she wanted her for over a hundred years. She was not just a rat in her aunt's maze. She could not play with the fate of those she loved.

"If I—once I convince Dean—how will you let him go? If you just let him go, he'll know something is up."

Elisabeth explained to Abby that once Dean is thoroughly convinced to the point that he will not attempt Abby's rescue, she'll have the guards 'accidentally' open part of a secret passage where they were being kept. It will lead them into the woods outside of the complex.

"They will think they found a way to escape," she explained. "They will think they got out on their own. It's perfect."

The thoughts swirled in her head, her aunt's words banging through her head like a drum of war. She sank down in the corner, her eyes staring up at the moon that would soon seal her fate.

"Lilith will rise again tomorrow."

Lilith would rise and Abigail Winchester would be her prisoner—forever.


	42. Tremble for My Beloved

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers. _

**_AUTHOR NOTE: _I am so sorry for the delay! I have not had any time to update till recently. My life has been pretty crazy. Started a new job. Daughter was sick. I had several injuries which required medical attention. Yeah, it's been fun. ;-) I hope you enjoy and thank you to those who have waited so patiently.**

She woke up in a fog, the feeling of arms wrapped around her, her back upon on the cold, damp stone.

Her eyes took in her surroundings, seeing nothing but darkness. It took a moment for everything to sink in; she was still a prisoner.

"You alright," a voice said from next to her. "April?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Wes," she whispered.

"Are you sure," he pressed.

'Yes' reassured him that she was fine, the wound on her wrist already healing. Though he didn't seem sure of the truthfulness of her retort, he relented.

"You shouldn't have let me do that," he said, already sounding more like him.

"No, I should have," she said, her hand finding his face. "You need your strength if we are to get out of here."

He scoffed, telling her that if he hadn't been able to get out before their current situation, there was no hope.

"Well, you didn't have me as an escape co-conspirator," she joked. He wasn't finding the humor.

"April, they're going to starve us till they get sick of us and either just let us rot or kill us. They put me in here because I betrayed them by warning you. Do you remember that night? How long ago that was? The last time I had fed was a week after that, when they brought me a small child and I was just so hungry, I—I couldn't help myself. She was so scared-"

His voice was getting more strained.

"Hey, hey, relax," she soothed, running her hands through his hair. "There's hope. There has to be hope. We're going to get out of here. We just have to find their weakness. Once you get your strength back-"

"_Don't you get it, April?_ We're not. I just_ drank _from _you_. We're going to get anywhere. They are going to starve us, April. Trust me. This is it."

She stopped trying to convince him. Part of her believed that he had just lost it from being captive. The other knew he was right. Yes, they were going to die in there. If Wes couldn't use his powers or his strength, and she was out of it as well, they were screwed.

Against all resistance, she began to cry, all the emotion kept inside bursting to the surface all at once. Her sobs shook her body with intensity. He was right, this was it. Their captors weren't going to feed them. She was going to keep feeding Wes, just in case the opportunity rose, and she would either die by his or their hands.

"Shhh," Wes whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry, you're right, April."

"No, _no_, you're right," she supposed between tears, her chest clenching at the thought. "I'm going to die here. I'm never going to graduate. I'm never going to get to go to college. I'm never going to see my brothers or my dad or my mom again…"

"Hey, _hey_," he said, grabbing her face, pulling her to him, her body crushed against his. She could feel his lips against hers. "_You_ listen to me," he said, his own voice quaking with emotion. "You're not going to give up. You're going to see them all again. I swear on my life, April, that _you_ will make it out of here. I will not have you die here. You're going to experience all the things you would like to. We're going to get out."

His words were filled with conviction. Just like that night at Prom, he was going to save her.

"I'm so glad you're still alive, Wesley."

"For the time being," he joked.

"I'm serious."

"I'm glad I got to see you again, even if it's brief."

His hands stroked her face, winding in her hair.

"I love you," she whispered.

No answer.

"I would say it's too soon for me to say it, but after all we've been through—"

His lips pressed against hers, feverishly pursuing her, pushing her body against his. Her hands pulled him closer until they fit together like puzzle pieces. A perfect fit. She ran her hands over his body, frantically.

He pulled away, his breathing coming out erratically.

"Though god knows you shouldn't, and god knows I shouldn't say this…I love you, April. I love you more than you will ever know."

She pulled him to her until their bodies were intertwined with senseless, hopeless love, the only cooping in a desperate situation.

* * *

"Come on, Sammy, is there any change in the grate," Dean asked, working to chisel away at the stone between their cells before going to work again on the locks.

"I'm working on it, Dean. It's hollow underneath, they just sealed it over. Eventually it'll give way."

Sure, but it was taken too much time. He just had a feeling in his gut, they needed to work faster. Something was coming.

A sound came from down the hall.

"Guys, shhh," Dean ordered.

Footfalls followed the slamming of a metal door.

There was the sounds of rattling keys, a bolt sliding over metal and the door to his prison opened.

"You're coming with me," a man said, his hand grabbing dean by the arm.

"Easy with the merchandise there, Princess," Dean snarked, as Sam protested

Dean followed the large male vamp, trying to get a situation that would allow him to get the upper hand. Unfortunately, with how big the douchebag was in combination with how little Dean was armed, it wasn't looking good.

They came to a large wooden door, not unlike the doors down in the old cellar.

The large vamp unlocked the door and lifted the iron handle, standing back and offering Dean first entry.

"After you," the vampire smirked.

"No, you first, chuckles," Dean said, before the vampire pushed him into the room. Dean fell to the floor with a thud, the sound of the door thundering shut behind him.

He let his eyes adjust to the dark room. It was all stone, the floor similar to the cobblestones of an old street. There were wine barrels lined up against one of the walls. The ceiling was rounded. Guess that was the actual wine cellar now.

The door broke open, the silhouette of a women appeared in the doorway.

"Leave us alone, Jarod," she spoke to the guard. "I can handle myself."

She approached Dean slowly, smiling as she came closer. She had dark flowing hair, the fell passed her shoulders in waves. The only lightness in the room was the white of her dress showing in the moonlight just peeking under the door.

"Dean Winchester. So nice to finally meet you," she smiled. "I had wished it had not been in the setting, but, alas."

"Where's my wife and kid," he said.

"Wife? Kid," she tilted her head. It was then he saw the flick of a canine.

"Cut the crap, vampy. I want them back. I want them home."

She tilted her had back and laughed.

"Oh Dean, they ARE home. You see, Abigail is with me. She's home with her family. I'm her aunt Elisabeth. She has always been, and always will be, with us."

"That's a load of crap," Dean snapped back.

"Keep telling yourself that, Dean."

* * *

She took a breathe, holding her composure, her insides frayed. She had to do it; he was free if she could only convince him to go on with out her. He wouldn't leave her behind, not without a reason.

"I don't care what you say, you stupid bitch. I know my wife and she ain't with you," she heard Dean say.

Her heart clenched. He really was the most loyal person she had ever met in her life.

His line was her cue.

Abby strolled in, dressed in an elegant, low-cut white gown, looking every bit of an angel. He turned to face the door, finding his wife clad in similar garb to Elisabeth. His grin diminished.

"Abby?"

She tried to imagine how he saw her. Her body and appearance changed from the amount of human blood they had exposed her to. Her skin was a porcelain, her hair full of wave and body with blue hints in the black. She was more lithe and stronger; much stronger.

She briefly shut her eyes, probably so fast that he didn't even realize she did it. She had to. It was the one thing that kept her from tearing up and her emotions exploding inside her. She was one instant away from spewing the entire plan but stopped herself. If she did that, he would die in front of her. Elisabeth would quickly see to his demise...then Sam's...and Gwen and Cas...and her daughter.

There was no hope.

"Hello," she said, with a sly smile, taking a stand next to her aunt.

"Ab—what-"

"I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here," she smiled, taking a step towards him. Shewalked right up to him, putting a hand on her face. "My poor, simple Dean."

He cocked his eyebrow, wondering why she was talking to him with such a

"Ab," he said. "Come on, you've got to be kidding me?"

Abby smiled devilishly.

"I had you fooled for so many years, Dean. I still can't believe I made it this long without you figuring it out."

She approached him, rubbing a hand against his cheek.

"Poor plain, stupid, boy."

"Abby, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but this has gotta stop. You're starting to scare me."

She tossed her head back and laughed.

"Should I scare you? I thought we were past that stage. It took a while to earn your trust fully, you know. Honestly, _years_. But once I did, it was _so_ easy."

"Easy for what," Dean inquired. She could tell he was beginning to feel uneasy. He was starting to pace aimlessly, something he often did in situations he couldn't control or wrap his head around. Good. Just made her job simpler.

"It's our job in Lilitu to produce heirs, and what better heirs than those connected to the Winchester and Campbell lines?"

Dean stopped his pacing, putting a hand to his face. Abby could only imagine what he was thinking. How stupid could he be? How could he not see it? There had to be another explanation, right?

He wiped his face and whipped around, standing face to face with her, his eyes filled with emotion.

"No, that's not it," he said, grabbing her shoulders. She almost lost it at his touch, but she could feel Elisabeth's gaze, watching the two of them. She had to save Dean's life. She had to.

"Abby, that's not you. They put you up to this, didn't they? Don't you remember how it was, how happy we were? It wasn't fake, it couldn't have been," he whispered. "Abby, look at me."

She readied herself to stand firm against his gaze. His green eyes were glossed over with unabashed tears. They searched hers for meaning.

"_Please_ answer me," he begged.

What could she possibly say to convince him otherwise? She knew there were no amount of words that could convince him. There was only one thing that would change his mind. It was a promise years before, there was something between them that was forbidden. Through it all, the torment they put each other through emotionally, physically, they had persevered...except for one thing. There was one thing that Dean found reprehensible.

Lightening fast, she grabbed him, and sunk her teeth into his neck.


End file.
